The Adventures of Alyson Winchester
by WaywardDaughter18
Summary: Alyson Winchester has tried to learn how to be a hunter like her father and brothers, but she just isn't cut out for it. She is trying to be a normal teenager when a certain Yellow-Eyed Big Bad comes after her. This is an AU SisFic. Contains spanking- Don't Like it, Don't Read. Beta'ed from chapter 9 and co-written from chapter 12 with delacre.
1. Chapter 1

The Adventures of Alyson Winchester- a Winchester Sister

Dean-26, Sam-22, Alyson- 14

AU Where John Winchester is alive ,and isn't sure what killed Mary at first, but discovers it in the story.

Swearing and parental discipline of a minor

1.

I just wanted someone to pay attention to me. I wanted someone to really look at me, and listen to what I was saying, instead of the hurried dismissal of "Uh-huh". Sometimes I wanted to just stand there and scream, or just take off running and keep going, to see how far away I could get from them before they would actually notice. Or would they even come after me?

It was The Hunt that mattered, the goddamned Hunt for all the nasty creatures that harmed people in the world, and Dad thought that he had finally tracked down the thing that had killed our Mom after all these years. And when he had said that, my brother's eyes had both lit up with that same obsessive fire that had been in our Dad's eyes for years now.

They went out hunting a lot more now than they had when I was younger, partly because I was old enough that I didn't need a babysitter for overnights any more. And I was able to help out in my way, with the research, although Sam was still anal about me touching his laptop, and he would mostly have me look for a pattern in the events that he had printed out, or have me comb through a series of obituaries to try and make a connection, or something similar. And I could do stuff like filling shotgun shells with salt and making sure the med kit was stocked up with bandages and all. Dad had tried to train me to be a hunter, when I was younger, and it was clear that I wasn't cut out for it. I was clumsy and small. When he tried to teach me how to spar with the boys, I ended up getting hurt and I was too timid to swing at them. I had bad aim and no sense of direction. The loudness of a gun going off had me clapping my hands to my ears in shock, dropping the weapon and earning a swat on the back of the head from Dad. I could track a little bit, but like I said, had no sense of direction, so if I went out into the forest I'd probably get lost and end up needing to be tracked myself.

2.

I heard the low rumble of the Impala's engine as it pulled up in front of our house. I heard car doors slamming and the keys in the lock as they came home.

"Hey, short stuff" Dean said off-handedly as he came in, slinging a large canvas duffel bag onto the floor. Sam came in next, eyeing me to assess my mood and see if he could give me a hug. He's always been the best at reading me. Maybe because he took care of me more when I was little. At that point, Dean was either training with Dad or off with him on a Hunt.

Sam came up to me. "Hey Aly. Missed you." he said, reaching out and squeezing my arm. I was feeling prickly today and it probably showed on my face. Dad came in last, bringing the cooler in, and taking it into the kitchen. He came back to the living room.

"Dammit, Aly, where's dinner? I told you when we were going to be home." Dad growled at me. His face looked tired.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I lost track of time between all the studying I have to do and the million chores you dumped on me!" I said sarcastically. He came over to me. "It looks like you've been slacking on the chores as well, there are still dishes in the sink!" he glared at me. "Did you fill up the shotgun shells?"

"Yes, all three thousand five hundred eighty seven of them" I sighed and rolled my eyes. Dad grabbed my upper arm. "You want to watch your tone." he warned. He let go of me and turned to Dean. "Dean, order some pizzas."

Dad looked at me and said, "Pack a bag for this weekend. I'm dropping you off at Bobby's."

"Dad, why? I can't go this weekend!" I protested. He raised his eyebrows at me, not used to being questioned. "Because we have a Hunt, that's why! Why can't you go?"

"I told you, the Fine Arts Festival is this weekend and we're singing in it and then we have the audition for County Choir. You're not even going to be here? I've been talking about this for weeks!" I was hurt, again. "Can't Sam stay here with me and go to the concert?"

Dad shook his head. "It's an all hands on deck kind of thing. We're meeting up with some other hunters Friday."

I covered over my hurt with anger. "Well that's just great. Enjoy your Hunt!" I turned and stomped to my room. I tried to start studying again, but I was too keyed up now. I paced for a few minutes and then sat down on my bed and tried to concentrate on my math book, hoping that would make my anger dissipate.

Someone knocked on the door. I called come in, and it was Dean. He leaned on the door jamb. "Pizza's here." he said. He came into the room. "You need to be careful with Dad. He's really starting to get pissed off with all the attitude you've been laying on him lately."

"Well he needs to give me some consideration instead of treating me like a goddamned servant all the time!"

"Language, Aly!" Dean snapped. He frowned at me and I frowned back at him to show him I wasn't intimidated by him any more. "You coming?'

I put my book to the side and sighed. "Yeah, I'm coming." I stood up.

"Pizza's good, but I was really hoping you had made your meatloaf tonight. I've been craving it recently." he put his arm around my shoulders as we walked to the living room.

"Noted." I told him. "I can make it when you guys come back."

We sat down at the kitchen table and I listened as they talked about what they were going to need for the weekend, and what their schedule was going to be.

Dad looked at me. "I want you home before dark. No friends over and you don't go anywhere without letting me know. Call us to check in every couple hours."

"I know the drill!" I said. "You don't have to keep telling me!"

"Keep up with the attitude, young lady, and I will take you to Bobby's anyway, no matter what your plans are this weekend!" He stared at me, and I stared back, but I couldn't keep it up. Dad is the master of the Winchester Glare, and I dropped my eyes to my lap after a couple minutes.

"Is the audition the same day as your program?" Sam asked me.

"Yeah, We're going to sing in the morning and then meet over at the high school in the afternoon for the audition. I'm going to get a ride with Jenny for both." I looked at Dad. "Is that okay?"

"Fine" he said.

When we had finished eating, I loaded the dishes in the dishwasher hurriedly. I had meant to earlier, but I had forgotten. Dishes is one thing I don't mind doing, because I can do it pretty quick. I went back to my room and sat down on the bed to study. Dad came to the door. He cleared his throat.

"This, uh, concert. It's not the only one this year?" He was looking at the floor.

"No, there's going to be an end of the year concert in June." I told him. He raised his head and looked at me. "I did forget, Aly. I'm sorry. This hunt came up all of a sudden, and like I said, it's a big one. There's a huge nest of vampires and we need a lot of people there to clear it out." He rubbed his chin. "I'll make sure I come to the concert in June."

"Okay" I said. Don't cry, don't cry, I told myself. I was so used to him snapping at me these days, or not really being present when I talked to him, that when he was actually nice to me, it made me well up. He gave me a brief smile.

"I'll let you get back to studying." he said, and he walked away. I wished I could run to him and hug him like I used to. When I was little, he'd swing me up in the air and I would squeal with laughter. I had been too big to do that for a while now. I wasn't really big on hugging any more any way.

Sam came into my room a short while later and sat on the foot of my bed. "I saw that there's a new Margaret Atwood out. Want me to pick it up for you this weekend?"

"Sam, you don't have to bribe me with stuff." I told him.

"I'm not." he said. "I know you like her books and I'm just trying to be nice."

"You're just trying to make up for Dad being such a bear all the time."

He shrugged. "Maybe a little. He's just worried about you staying safe."

"Well he has a funny way of showing it!"

"He's ex-military, Aly. And believe me, you got a lot more affection from him than Dean or I ever did when were were younger. You're the one who stopped wanting that, and it confused him." He reached out and put his hand on my ankle. "Make sure you be careful this weekend, okay?"

"I'm always careful, dude." I said. I closed my book. "I need to go to bed." He stood up, came over to me, and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "'Night, kiddo."

"Good night, Sam."

3.

They left Friday morning while I was getting ready for school.

"Don't forget, call when you leave-" Dad started.

"-and call or text when you get to where you're going." I said along with him. "I know, Dad." He pulled me to him for one of his bear hugs and for a second I couldn't breathe. Then he kissed my forehead and said gruffly, "Stay safe."

Dean was next. He grabbed me and tickled my side and then gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. He's not big on "chick flick moments" as he calls them. "Be good" he told me.

"You too." I said. "Don't forget to pack some condoms." I smirked at him.

"Aly!" Dean exclaimed, shocked.

Dad pulled me by my arm and actually swatted my butt. "Young lady, watch your mouth" he said sternly. I got embarassed.

"I was just joking!" I protested.

"That's not something you should be joking about. Come here." Sam said, leaning down to hug me. He lifted me off the floor. "Break a leg this weekend. But not really. You guys should do well." He gave me a kiss on the cheek." I'll be thinking about you." he told me quietly.

"All right, let's get this show on the road." Dean said.

"Aly, lock up behind us." Dad told me.

I stood at the bus stop and texted to Sam, "Bus is here now." as it pulled up. When it got to school, I texted, "At school. TTYL. 3." And then turned off the phone. We're not allowed to have our cell phones on at school and they had to stay in our lockers.

After school...

My phone started ringing as I walked through the door of our house. It was Dad, and he sounded pissed. "You're late." He said loudly. "Where the hell have you been? I told you to go straight home from school." I could hear voices and music in the background. It was close to dinnertime.

"Ms. Brown had one last rehearsal after school before tomorrow. I couldn't call because my phone was in my locker and I didn't get it until we left." I explained hurriedly.

"You didn't walk home, did you?"

"No sir, Haley's mom gave a couple of us rides home."

"All right then. Here, Sam wants to talk to you." I heard rustling and then Sam came on the line. "Aly, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I had a rehearsal after school. It was last minute."

"What time is the concert tomorrow?" he asked.

"Oh, I found out that the concert starts at 10:00 but we're not performing until 11:30. I don't know if we have to stay for the whole thing. The elementary schools are performing later and their bands are always, you know, not that good." I told him.

Sam chuckled. "Elementary school band concerts are really for the parents of the kids in the band. Nobody else should be forced to listen to that."

I laughed. "You got that right!"

"Are you nervous about the audition?" he asked.

"Not yet. I will be tomorrow." I told him.

"All right, I gotta go. Doors and windows all locked up?'

"Yes, Sammy!" I said with annoyance.

"Hey, I gotta make sure my baby sister's safe. Love ya, kiddo."

"Love you guys back. 'Night." I hung up and went to the kitchen to make myself some dinner.

4.

In the morning, I texted to Dad, "Good morning. Jenny's mom is here now. Leaving for Fine Arts Fest." He texted back, "Break a leg." Sam probably told him to say that. We hung out in the choir room at the Middle School while we were waiting to perform. The plan was that the choral groups, who were all older kids, would stay in the chorus room and then go back to the room after performing, and then when the bands performed, they would get to sit in the audience afterwards, so that there was less confusion about the younger kids getting picked up by parents.

"Hey Aly" one of the guys called to me. "I thought I saw your brother's sweet car in the parking lot."

"Probably not' I told him. "They're out of town this weekend." Every single guy who saw the Impala drooled after it, and even though I was a nerd, the car gave me a certain amount of cred at school, and people who would otherwise ignore me actually said hi to me in the halls because I was "Impala girl." I'm sure Dean would laugh his ass off if I ever told him that, because he knows that cars are the last thing in the world that interest me.

We walked out to the stage and performed, and when the lights came up briefly as we left the auditorium, I thought I saw Sam sitting in the back, but I wasn't sure. The place was packed to the rafters with people. We were walking back to the chorus room when someone grabbed me in a hug from behind. I turned, surprised.

"Sammy!" I cried happily. I hugged him tightly, tears coming to my eyes. "What are you doing here? I mean, how did you convince Dad to let you go?" We stopped in the hallway. People turned to look at us as they walked by.

"The vamps aren't really active during the day." he told me in a low voice." They're talking strategy for a couple hours, so I ducked out to come see you. That was excellent! You guys sound better than you did at the beginning of the year."

"Thanks." I said. "Ms. Brown said this group works really well together. "

"I really liked the Mozart piece. Did you teach everyone the proper pronunciation of Latin?" he teased, grinning at me. I'm probably the only 14 year old who can recite an exorcism in Latin, thanks to Dad.

"No, although there are a couple people I really wanted to correct. They would suck at it if they were with you guys!" I grinned back,

"Can you imagine, the demon keeps hanging out because the pronunciation is so mangled!" Sam laughed. I hugged him again. "Thanks for coming, Sam. It means a lot to me."

"No problem ." he said. "What time is the audition?"

"At 1:00."

"Cool. I've got to get back." he leaned down and kissed my cheek, and gave my shoulders a squeeze. "Talk to you tonight." I watched him walk down the hall. When I went into the chorus room, I was greeted with, "Oh my god, who was that? He is gorgeous!" from most of the girls.

"That's my big brother, and he's too old for all of you." I told them. "So don't even think about it."

5.

"Thanks for the rides today, and for dinner, Mrs. Bragg. Bye, Jenny." I said as I got out of the car. As I went in the house, my phone started to ring. I saw 5 missed calls from John Winchester. Uh-oh. However, this call was from Sam.

"Hey, I think we nailed the audition!" I said to him.

"Just where in the hell have you been?" Dean yelled at me." Dad called you a bunch of times because you stopped texting. And it's dark out now and you're just getting

home."

"Why do you have Sam's phone?" I asked. I realized what he had just said. "And how do you know I just got home?"

"I just grabbed a phone, thought it was mine. Dad enabled the GPS on your phone. Why are you out so late?" he demanded.

"Wait, Dad enabled the GPS on my phone? So he could spy on me? He really doesn't trust me, does he? That's not fair!" My voice broke and I was glad he wasn't there because I started crying.

"We want to be able to see where you are, in case there are times when you can't call or text. It's not an issue of trust." Dean said gruffly, and I wondered if he could tell that I was crying. "However, there is the issue that you're not supposed to be out after dark, and yet here you are."

"I'm sorry, Jenny's mother took us out to dinner. I left my purse in the car by accident and we lost track of time." I sniffled and wiped my eyes.

"I thought the audition was in the afternoon."

"It was, but we decided to stay and watch the other schools that were auditioning. It went on for a lot longer than we thought." I explained.

"And you couldn't call or text in all that time?" Dean's voice was his serious hunter growl.

"Sor-ry!" I said defensively. "We were all excited and talking about the concert and stuff and I just didn't think about it."

"That is unacceptable, young lady!" he yelled at me. "You didn't let us know that you were going out to dinner, and you stayed out past dark! If you're going to start with that flaunting the rules bullshit again, you're going to have to answer to me as well as to Dad!"

"Gee, you're both going to ground me?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, we're both going to blister your ass." he said threateningly.

"I'm too old for that, I'm 14, remember, not 8!" I protested.

"Sweetheart, Dad whipped my ass until I was 18. So you better start toeing the line. Everything locked up for the night?"

"Yeah, in a minute, I just walked in the door!"

"Excuse me? You need to lose the attitude!"his voice was stern.

"Okay okay!"

"What did you say to me?" his voice dropped even lower and I knew he was really pissed off now.

"Yes sir." I said automatically. "Sorry, Dean."

"That's better. We've got to get going now."

"Be careful."

"Yep." he said, and he hung up. Like I said, he's not one for chick flick moments like saying I love you. I made sure everything was locked up and went to sleep. The next day I did chores and cleaned the house extra well. If Dad was going to yell at me for breaking the rules, hopefully he would relent a little if he saw how much work I had done.

6.

I had texted Sam in the morning, "Just woke up. Hope things went well. Gonna study and clean today. Love U 3" Later in the afternoon, he texted me back, "We'll be back late tonight. Dean hurt, not too serious. Love ya back." I got worried then, and spent some time trying not to cry. They acted like it wasn't a big deal, but I was always scared when they left because I knew it could get dangerous. And sometimes there was a danger of them dying. I tried not to think about that, but when one of them got hurt, it brought that fear home. ~~~

I heard the key in the lock and sat up on the sofa, blinking. I stood up and Sam was helping Dean walk in. It was close to 3 AM. I hurried over and took Dean's other arm and helped lead him to the sofa. "Oh God, Dean, what happened? Are you okay?"

He flapped his hand at me and snapped, "Jesus, enough with the fussing over me! It's been all damn day!" He flopped down on the sofa and sighed heavily.

"You're just grouchy because it's past time for your pain pill. Don't take it out on Aly." Sam told him.

Dad came in carrying a duffel and backpack and the med kit. He dropped everything by the door and glared at me.

"Young lady, what are you doing up?" he growled. He was a firm believer in kids and teens getting enough sleep, especially once the boys had started training and hunting, because if you were tired on a hunt you were putting yourself and everyone else in jeopardy. Bedtime was strictly enforced in our house, and all of us had gotten in trouble more than once for staying up too late or fighting bedtime.

"I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you guys." I said. "I was worried about Dean."

"Dean will be fine. You need to go to bed, it's a school night." He rubbed his forehead.

"Dad-"

He crossed the room to me in a few strides and glared down at me. "Are you going to start defying me, after breaking a couple rules this weekend? I'm really starting to think you need an attitude adjustment."

I gulped audibly. "N-no sir." An attitude adjustment was a serious punishment where Dad spanked, and spanked, and spanked you, lighting a fire in your butt that burned out all the sassing and anger and bravado, until you were a sobbing mess over his lap. I had only had one attitude adjustment spanking when I was younger and I never wanted to experience that again.

"We'll see about that. You and I need to have a discussion tomorrow about this weekend. Get to bed."

"Yes sir." I said quickly. I turned and said, "Good night, guys" as I walked by my brothers. Sam touched my arm as I passed him. That wasn't how I wanted things to go, but more often than not, it seemed like when they came home from a hunt, either they were arguing or I ended up being scolded. I wished it could be like it had been when I was little and we would all be happy to see each other when they came back.

I laid down in bed and turned out the bedside light. Sam came to the door, I could tell be his tall silhouette when he stood there. He came in and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing me. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah" I said. "Worried about you guys."

"We're home safe now. Give me a hug." I sat up and we hugged and kissed. I laid my head on his shoulder and breathed in his scent. "I love when you guys come home smelling like wood smoke." I said. "It's a comforting smell."

He chuckled. "It usually means we were freezing our butts off in some forest somewhere!" I laid down and he pulled the covers up and tucked them around my body.

"I'm glad your singing went well. Good night."He said to me.

"G'night Sammy." My eyes were already feeling heavy.

7.

Sam picked me up from school the next day. "Can you take me out to buy the stuff I need to make meatloaf for Dean?" I asked Sam. "I told him I would make it for him when you guys got home."

"Hopefully that will boost his mood" Sam said. "He's been a bitch ever since he got hurt."

"He doesn't deal well with being taken care of." I said.

"That's so true. And I think being injured makes him feel like he's not in control, and he hates that."

"Yep. So what happened?" I asked.

I saw him glance at me. "The nest had more that we originally thought. They were pretty brutal. A couple people got seriously injured. Dean got stabbed in the shoulder with a knife."

"Oh god!" I gasped. "Are you and Dad okay?"

"We just got banged up a little, the usual bruises and scrapes. No big deal."

We walked through the store together and I gathered the ingredients to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I remembered being small and going to the store with Dad and riding in the cart. I was always scared of getting lost in the store and I liked being in the cart because it meant he was right there. When I outgrew the cart, I would cling to him like a burr and he would usually end up tripping over me and scolding me. For some reason I never told him that I was just scared of getting lost.

8.

Sam took the bags into the kitchen and I went over to the sofa where Dean was sitting. He was wearing a white tank top and had a big bandage on his shoulder and his arm was in a sling. He had a pillow under that arm and his feet up on the coffee table, watching tv. I leaned down and hugged him. "Hi Dean" I said. "I'm making meatloaf tonight for you." I kissed his stubble-roughened cheek. "Can I get you anything?"

He held up his glass, which smelled like it had had alcohol in it. " 'Nother of these." he said. Sam came into the room and took the glass out of Dean's hand.

"You're not supposed to be drinking while you're taking those pain pills, man" Sam said admonishingly.

"Sammy, s'ok" Dean said. "Come on, buddy."

"No, Dean, you're already drunk. No more." Sam looked at me. "Go make a pot of coffee, would you?"

"Okay." I said. I went into the kitchen and started the coffee maker and got out all my supplies. I like to put onion and green peppers and breadcrumbs in my meatloaf. I got out a knife and the cutting board and sat down at the table. Dad came into the kitchen, talking on his cell phone.

"Okay, I'll get back to you. Thanks again." He hung up and looked at me. "How was school today?"

"Fine" I said. "Dean's drunk."

"I know" he sighed. "He says the pain pills only take the edge off, and that whiskey makes them work better. He's stubborn when he's hurting like that." He came over and leaned against the counter near me. "We need to talk." he said.

"Now? Please, Dad-"

"What?" he folded his arms and looked at me, his face serious.

I took a deep breath. "Okay, I-I'm sorry I've been- giving you a lot of attitude, and I'm sorry I forgot to tell you we were going out this weekend."

"It's too late for sorry." he said.

"What? What does that mean?" I asked. I started slicing up the green pepper.

"You've been mouthy for weeks now, and then with this weekend, not telling me you were going out AND coming home after dark, and you KNOW those are both rules-"

"You didn't tell me you put GPS on my phone! Why did you do that! What do you think I'm going to do? What did I ever do to make you not trust me?!" I got angrier and angrier with each sentence until I was shouting. I slapped the knife down on the table.

"One, you need to stop shouting at me. Two, it's a way of checking where you are if you are in a situation where you can't call or text." Dad's voice was deadly serious.

"Why do you have to constantly be checking up on me? I'm not a dumb little kid any more!" And dammit, my eye were welling up with tears of frustration.

"Nobody thinks you're a dumb little kid. It's a matter of safety, I want to make sure you're safe when I'm not around."

"No, you don't trust me. For real, if you guys were on a hunt and you saw on the GPS that I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be, is there anything you could do about it if I was in a bad situation? You wouldn't be able to do jack shit. It's just a way of keeping track of me because you think I don't know what I'm doing." I wiped the tears away but they kept coming.

"Aly, you're only 14, and I worry about you."

"I'm 'only 14'!" I was outraged. "I've done a lot more stuff than most 14 year olds I know! Just because I'm not an amazing shot like Dean or a brainiac researcher like Sam, doesn't mean I'm worthless ! Give me a little credit!"

Dad sighed and closed his eyes. "I have never said you're worthless-"

"You don't have to say it, it's in how you treat me! I bet you'd just love to get rid of me so that you could just go out on a Hunt whenever you wanted and not have to make sure I'm being taken care of."

Dad's eyes popped open and his face was angry. "Alyson Elisabeth Winchester, how can you say that? You don't know how I fee-"

I jumped up out of my chair, in a fury now. I got right up in his face. "In fact, I'll bet you never even wanted me to be born! It's my fault that Mom died, isn't it! I know you blame me!" I was shouting at him-

-And then he slapped me across the face. I stood there, stunned, rooted in place. My cheek was stinging. I stared up at him, tears spilling out of my eyes.

"HOW DARE YOU!" he shouted, his brown eyes dark with rage. He reached for me, and then Sam was there, sliding his body between us. "Okay, okay, let's cool off. Come with me" he took my shoulders in his big hands and dragged me outside onto the front porch. He held on to me, looking at my face.

"Can I let you go, or are you going to take off?" he asked.

"You can let me go, I won't run" I said dully. He put his hands down and I walked a couple feet away and put my hand up to my throbbing face. Tears dripped down my cheeks.

"That's some pretty serious stuff you were saying in there. Has all that really been bumping around inside your head?" Sam's forehead was creased with concern.

"I guess. I didn't really know I felt that way until I said it." I felt drained.

"Well damn, no wonder you've been in such a shitty mood."

"Sam!" I protested.

"What? You have been, you've been bitchy and giving attitude left and right. I'm actually shocked that Dad hasn't already spanked your butt at least once."

"Gee, thanks." I sighed. "Now what?"

"Now I need to go check on Dad." Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead. "God, this hunt was sucky. And everything since has just gone to shit."

I was concerned. I'd never heard Sam talk like this. I went up to him and put my arms around him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'll stop being such a brat now."

He took my chin in his hand. "You're not a brat, Aly." He looked into my eyes. " And it's not your fault about Mom, and nobody blames you, and all of us were really excited to find out that Mom was having a little girl. So stop thinking those things about yourself."

"You guys were excited?"

He put his arms around me. "Are you kidding? After having two boys, Mom was over the moon to be able to paint the nursery pink and buy all those little girly outfits and all. And Dad- well, there's something special about the relationship of a Dad and his daughter, and I'll admit, I was a little jealous sometimes when you were real little. But then I realized that it's just because the relationship is different and that Dad and Dean and I had our own kind of special relationship."

"You were jealous of me?" I was amazed. Sam let go of me and walked a couple steps away.

"Yeah, I was still a kid when you were born, and there was a lot of 'Help mom with the baby, Sam', and then later it was 'Let your sister follow you around, Sam'. But you know things changed when Mom..." he looked down at the ground, and then back at me. "And then when Dad started training us, things changed again. And by then I was taking care of you." He turned toward the door. "Are you going to come in or stay out here?"

I sighed. "I need to make the meatloaf." I said.

9\. ** medical stuff in this chapter, character gets stitches **

I followed him in and went to the kitchen. Dad wasn't there, and Sam went to find him. I finished chopping the pepper and started on the onion. It made my eyes sting and burn even more than usual, I don't know if it was because I had already been crying, but my eyes teared up all of a sudden, so much so that I couldn't see what I was doing, and I felt the knife slip and then a sharp pain in the base of my thumb. I wiped my eyes with the back of my wrist and looked down and saw red. A lot of red, coming from my hand.

"Oh my god-" Dean stood at the kitchen door, holding an empty coffee mug in his hand. He stared at me for a moment, then walked around me and grabbed a dishcloth off the oven door. He came over and wrapped it around my hand.

"Where are Dad and Sam?" he asked. He looked at me. "You okay?"

"Uh-" I looked down. There was so much blood, the dishcloth was already soaking through, and it was so red- my vision started to go gray and there was roaring in my ears. I felt myself moving through the air and then I collided with something hard.

"Guys! She's bleeding! Sam! Dad! Get the fuck out here, she's down!" I heard Dean yelling, and then I heard quick footsteps.

My vision cleared and I realized I was laying on the floor. "Oh god, what happened?" I heard Dad say. He knelt down on one knee in front of me and helped me sit up.

"Aly. Alyson, are you okay?" he said urgently. "What happened?"

"I was cutting up the onion and my eyes got all teary from it and I couldn't see and the knife slipped and it started bleeding. A lot!" I told him.

"Okay, can you stand up?" Dad helped me up and Sam pulled a chair out from the table. Dad sat me in the chair and watched me a moment. "Are you okay? Let me know if you're about to pass out again."

"I'm okay."

"Let's see this" Dad's calloused hands were gentle as he took my wrist and unwrapped the towel. Sam sucked in his breath when he saw my hand. "That looks deep."

"Get the med kit and some towels. I've got to clean this up first." Dad said. Sam left the room.

I looked up at Dad and my eyes filled with tears. "Daddy, I'm sorry-" I started.

He interrupted me. "Not right now. We need to focus on this."

Sam came back in with the bag and started putting stuff on the table. He slipped a folded towel under my hand. Dad poured peroxide over the cut and I gasped. "Dammit that stings!" I swore, then looked up guiltily. "Sorry, Dad."

"Don't worry about it" he said tersely. He blotted my hand and then started examining the cut, turning my hand to the side and using his finger to gently test the edges of the wound. His eyes were intense; he was in "The Zone". He had been a soldier in Vietnam, and while he never talked about it, I think he must have had some medical training, because he knew a lot more than the average person about wound care and certain medical procedures. I had seen him stitch up and splint and bandage people before, and when he worked, he went to a place where he was very quiet and intense while he concentrated. I always assumed this was because of his experiences as a soldier.

He glanced at me. "Aly, I hate to say this, but you need stitches."

"Okay." I said. "Let me get my shoes on and we can go."

"We're not going anywhere. Sam's the best at sutures of any hunter I know." Dad glanced at him. "Go wash up, Sammy. Twice, and then glove up."

"Yes sir" Sam said. He left the room.

"I don't want stitches! Is it going to hurt?" I got scared.

"I have some numbing spray, but that's it. So yes, it is going to hurt, and be uncomfortable." He glanced at Dean who was standing in the kitchen. "You sober yet? Because we may need your help."

"Uh, yeah. I don't know how I can help, though" he gestured at his shoulder.

"You can help Sam while I hold her." Dad said.

"I don't want stitches!" I said again. "Can't we just bandage it real good?"

"No, because of where this wound is, too much movement would make it open right back up, it needs to be sutured."

"Daddy, I'm scared" I said, feeling like a little kid.

"I know Pumpkin. You'll get through it just fine." He smiled at me and I almost cried. When had he stopped calling me Pumpkin? Probably when I turned into a sassy pre-teen who was angry about being left with people that I barely knew while he took both my brothers away with him on the weekends so they could go fight monsters.

Dad went over to the cabinet and took out a shot glass. He took out a bottle of amber liquid and poured a little bit in the glass and brought it over to me.

"Drink it down, quickly." He told me.

"What is it?" I smelled it. It was strong and medicinal smelling.

"Whiskey. It will help relax you. All at once, now."

I brought the glass up and let the whiskey touch my lips. It burned. "Oh-"I said.

"Drink it" he said sternly. He took my hand and held the glass up to my mouth. I took a deep breath and swallowed it all, and then started coughing at the burning in my throat.

"Oh my god you drink that for pleasure? How?" I gasped.

Dad's lips twitched. "It's an acquired taste."

Sam came back in the room, wearing surgical gloves. "Where do you want to do this?"

"Let's try it here" Dad said. He took out a small bottle and sprayed my wound a few times. He got out some packs of sterile blue surgical drapes and gauze and helped Sam unwrap them. He gave Sam a sterile needle and Sam threaded it. I swallowed nervously. The burning had dulled to a warmth in my stomach. My head felt a little funny.

Dad brought a chair around for Sam and he sat down and leaned over me. He took my hand and examined it the same way Dad had. Dad put his hand on my shoulder.

"Alyson, you have to stay completely still. Can you do that?"

"Um, yeah, I guess."

Sam looked at Dad. "Clean it for me please."

Dad got out some iodine and some sterile cotton and poured the iodine over my cut. It was cold and smelled funny. He then wiped some more on with a cotton ball.

"Okay" Sam said. "Ready?" He took my hand and turned it. "Keep it just like that." he said., and then he picked up the needle. I felt it prick me and jerked my hand away.

"No" I said. "No, no, no, no." I tried to stand up and Dad pushed me back down.

"I'll hold her wrist." he told Sam. He held my wrist down and Sam tried again.

"OUCH!" I screamed, and tried to pull away from Dad. "Please don't do this" I said. "I can feel it, it hurts a lot!"

"Okay." Dad took a deep breath. "We can put some more numbing spray on it and see if that helps. I'll have to clean it again. Let's move this to the living room. Dean, take the towels and gauze in for me."

"Yes sir." Dean said. Dad went over and poured me more whiskey. He handed it to me.

"Drink this. You're going to need it to keep you calm." I drank it down and coughed again.

Sam looked at him. "Really, Dad?"

"Do you see it happening any other way? Maybe she'll get to the point where she doesn't care."

Sam shook his head. He looked at Dad again. "So what's the plan?"

"I'm going to hold her still and Dean will help me. We'll sit on the couch." Dad gathered up the rest of the supplies. "Come on, Aly."

I stood up and weaved a little. "Whoops" Sam said. "She's unsteady."

Dad came over. "I've got you." he said, and put his arm around my waist. He guided me into the living room and sat me down on the sofa.

I wish I could say it went smoothly, and quick. But it didn't. The numbing spray only worked for a very short while, and I couldn't just sit there and let Sam stab me with the needle. There was some tussling and Dad threatened me with a spanking and then he swatted my bottom and my head started to feel even more funny. I ended up sitting on Dad's lap in a basket hold, restrained so that I could barely move. He held my arm out to the side on Dean's lap and Dean was also holding my wrist. I cried and protested while Sam sewed my wound up. I kept trying to squirm away and jerk my body out of Dad's grasp, but he was so much bigger than me and stronger that it was useless. He started to get angry with me and threatened to spank me again, and then I broke down and cried. I was feeling a little dizzy and weird at that point, the suturing wasn't bothering me so much anymore as Dad's tight hold on me.

"Almost done." Sam said.

"Daddyyyyy, you're holdin me too tight" I whined. "You're hurtin my other wrist. An' my arms."

"I told you, I'm not letting you go yet. If you relax your arms, they won't hurt. You're pressing them against me and your muscles are all tense." Dad told me. "Be still."

"Ouch, Sam!" I gasped, trying to jerk my hand away.

"Alyson Elisabeth we are almost done here! Now be still or so help me I will put you over my knees and I'll let Sam finish up while I am spanking you!" Dad's angry voice was so deep I could feel it rumble in my back.

"Done."Sam said, sitting up straight. "Let me trim the ends." He picked up a pair a scissors and snipped the ends of the sutures short. He put the scissors down and wrapped some gauze around my hand and taped it in place, then stripped off the rubber gloves. He sat up fully and stretched his back. Dad let me go and I wobbled as I stood up. He grabbed me and sat me next to him on the couch.

"How's your head? Are you feeling okay?"

"My head feels funny an', an' weird. Are you gonna spank me now?" I burst into tears.

"I see the whiskey is still in effect" Sam said drily. I didn't understand what he meant.

He got up and left the room.

"No, I'm not going to spank you" Dad said. "We should get some food into your stomach to absorb the alcohol." I sniffled and wiped my face with my shirt.

"Ya know, we never had dinner." Dean said. "I'm starving. Damn, I wish Aly had been able to finish making the meatloaf!"

"We'll have to try to make it tomorrow." Dad said.

Sam came back in and handed me a glass of water and some pills. "Drink the whole glass." he said. "Hopefully you won't have a hangover tomorrow."

"Sam, how about you run out and get some dinner for us." Dad told him. "I'll go put the meat and everything away." They both left and I slumped against Dean next to me on the sofa.

"You get grumpy when you're hurt. Can I be grumpy too?" I asked.

"Oh, I get grumpy? Says who?" he looked down at me.

"It's common knowledge, Dean." I slurred.

"You've been pretty grumpy yourself recently, what's your excuse?" he teased. I punched his arm. "Shuddup, Dean!"

Dad came in the room and sat down across from us. "Don't hit your brother." he said absently. He had a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Sorry, Dean." I said automatically. Dean put his arm around me. "Ah, the happy milestone of the first time my baby sister gets drunk."

"I'm not drunk!" I protested.

"Dean" Dad said.

"You have to admit, she's at least a little bit tipsy." Dean smirked.

Dad sighed. "I don't feel good about it, but it was necessary. Things would have gone a whole lot worse without some whiskey in her system."

We sat quietly for a few minutes, Dad taking a swallow of his beer every so often. I glanced over at him to see him staring at me.

"What?" I asked. If I didn't know any better I'd say he looked a little sad.

"Would you come over and sit with me like you used to when you were little?" he almost seemed afraid when he is asking me.

"Um, okay." I said. I stood up and went over to him and sat down in his lap. He picked up my bandaged hand and kissed it, then set it down in my lap. "I kinda miss the days when all I had to do to make you feel better was kiss your boo-boo." he said. He put his arms around me and hugged me. I leaned into him after a moment, realizing how much I had missed this. I rested my head on his chest and felt the soft flannel of his plaid shirt under my cheek. I slid my arms around him and hugged him back, and I felt him exhale. Then I turned my head into his shirt because suddenly I was crying, and trying not to. I bit my lip and tried to calm my sobs.

I felt Dad's hand on my back. "Let it out" he said quietly. "It's all right." He rubbed my back as I sobbed. He smelled like the outdoors, wood smoke and pine trees, and it was such a familiar, comforting smell that I realized that I had been missing it too, because I didn't snuggle with or hug him that much any more. The realization made me sob harder.

"All of that stuff you said earlier, it's not true." he said quietly. "I don't know where you got it from, but it's not true in the slightest. That is not the way I feel about you and it never has been." He tightened his arms around me for a moment. Then he put his hand under my chin and tilted my head up so I was looking at him. His eyes were full of regret. "I'm sorry I slapped you earlier. That was out of line. We've all been on edge since this last hunt, and I just lost my temper. That's no excuse though, and I'm sorry." He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Every time I look at you, I see Mary." he told me. "And I just want to protect you and keep you safe from everything, because I don't want to lose you too. So I do things that I think will keep you safe, like give you a lot of rules to follow, or activate the GPS on your phone. I know it seems like I'm an overprotective hard-ass, but I really am doing it all to keep you as safe as I can without locking you up in some tower."

"I'm sorry I'm such a mouthy brat." I said.

He chuckled. "You're fourteen, it's part of the job description. It doesn't mean I have to like it, and it doesn't mean that you're not going to get in trouble for mouthing off, but all kids go through that stage. You probably don't remember, but when Sam was your age he got his ass blistered on a regular basis. That kid was so mouthy!"

"Sam was mouthy?" I couldn't imagine it.

"You know how he has to argue everything. Back then he had to prove a point and he couldn't ever let anything go."

"Wow." I said, hugging him again.

"Speaking of..." Dad said as Sam walked in with paper bags of carryout food. Sam looked at us. "What?"

"We were just talking about you." Dad said.

"Hmm." Sam gave us a suspicious look and sat down next to Dean, who had fallen asleep. He hit Dean's knee and said, "Wake up, dude. Dinner's here."

"I love you Daddy." I whispered.

"That's good to know. I've been so worried that you hate me. I love you too, Pumpkin." He kissed the top of my head and I got up so we could eat.

After we ate, Sam cleared everything away and Dad helped Dean got to bed. I hugged them and changed into one of Sam's t-shirts to wear to bed. Because he's so tall, it came down to my knees. I loved wearing my brother's shirts because they smelled like them. I laid down in bed and Dad came in.

"How's your hand?" he asked.

"It hurts a little" I told him.

"I've got some stronger medicine if you need it." he said. "We'll see how it feels tomorrow." he came over to the bed and leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Goodnight, Alyson. Let me know if you need anything."

"Okay. Good night."

10.

I came out to the living room in a panic. "I'm late for school! Dad's going to kill me!" I said. Dean was sitting on the sofa with his shirt off and Sam was working on his shoulder. Sam turned to me. "Dad decided to let you stay home."

"AAH!" Dean said loudly. "Yank the tape off a little faster next time, bitch." he said sarcastically.

"It's better to take it off quickly" Sam said.

"You better let me drink today."

"We'll see. It looks good, no discoloration or anything. I think we should leave it unbandaged right now and let it get some air." Sam told him. "How are you feeling? Still in pain?"

"It's manageable." Dean said. "Right now I could go for a beer."

"Dean, it's 9 o' clock in the morning!" I said.

"It's Happy Hour somewhere, sweetheart" he said.

Sam stood up and came over to me. "How is your head? Does your hand hurt?"

"I have a little bit of a headache but my hand is okay."

Sam brought me a glass of water and some ibuprofen. I took it and sat down next to Dean. Sam sat down next to me and turned on the tv. I discovered that my hand was fine as long as I didn't bump it against anything. If I did, it sent waves of pain up my arm and then throbbed for a while. I snuggled between my brothers on the sofa, enjoying being with them. Dean had my feet in his lap and was rubbing them occasionally and then tickling them, which is how I found out about my hand when I banged it on the table jerking away from him.

Dad came into the living room, freshly showered and shaved. He sat down in the armchair. "How is everyone feeling this morning?"

"Fine" Dean said. "Just wanting a beer or three."

"I'm okay." I said.

Dad sat forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at me. "Aly, we need to have a talk about this weekend."

I sighed and sat up. Sam turned off the tv.

"You broke 3 of the rules I gave you" Dad said. "I told you to let me know if you were going anywhere, and not only did you not let me know you were staying late at the auditions, you then went out to eat and didn't let me know. You left your phone in the car and it was a couple hours before you got in touch. I was very worried. "

"I'm sorry" I began, but he held his hand up. "I'm not done." he said. "You also were out past dark, and that is a very important rule."

"It's not like I was walking around by myself! I was at a restaurant, then in a car, then I came right home!" I protested.

Dad glared at me. "Really, young lady? You're going to sass me in the middle of the discussion about your punishment?"

"I'm sorry, sir." I said, with all the sincerity I could muster.

"I've decided that you will be grounded for two weeks- come straight home from school and no getting together with friends." he said.

"Dad, no, please." I begged. "Ms. Brown is going to be having extra rehearsals after school a couple times a week, I hadn't had a chance to tell you yet. I really need to go."

Dad sighed and considered a moment. "All right." he said. "Then you can do some translating. I talked to Sam and he's going to pick out 3 pages for you to translate from Latin to English, and then 3 pages of English to Latin."

"Oh man, I hate English to Latin!" I looked at Sam. "It's so much harder! Three pages?"

"Front and back" Sam said.

"Wait, Dad." I said. "I've got a lot of work coming up, I have to start working on my science fair project, and I've got a book report due in English, and I have to study for a big test on the last math unit. I'm not going to have time to do pages of translating!"

"Well you'd better find time." Dad said.

"Please, Dad." I said. "That's going to be an awful lot of work."

"Oh my god, I can't believe you're trying to talk Dad out of your punishment." Dean said. "And he's actually going along with it!"

I swallowed nervously. "Couldn't you just- spank me instead?" I asked quickly, my mouth dry.

"I thought you were too old to be spanked" Dean said.

"Who said that?" Dad raised his eyebrow at me. "You're not too old to be spanked until I say so."

"Uh- I said that to Dean on the phone over the weekend." I said nervously.

"Really." Dad folded his arms. "Well, if that's the only option left, since you are so busy with school and schoolwork, I guess that'll have to be it." He looked at me. "Do you want to get this over with now, or wait until tonight?"

Suddenly I realized what was going to happen. I wanted a hole to open up in the floor so I could fall into it. "Uh—now, I guess." One of the worst things was when you had to wait for an impending spanking from Dad. The anticipation was almost as bad as the spanking itself, and I didn't want that hanging over my head all day.

Dad stood up. "Let's go then." I got up and followed him to me bedroom. He closed the door behind me and sat down on the edge of my bed. I stood in front of him and then realized with a shock that I was still wearing Sam's t-shirt and nothing else except underwear.

"Um, can I put some pants on ?" I asked. "Please?"

Dad looked at me like I was crazy. "Why?" He took my wrists and guided me over his lap. He moved me so that my torso was on the bed and my legs were dangling down beside his legs. He pulled the hem of Sam's shirt up over my back.

"Dad!" I protested, reaching back to grab the shirt. "You can see my underwear!" I was embarrassed.

"So what?" he said. 'Little girl, I saw your naked bottom right after you were born, I've changed your diaper and potty trained you, and I promise you, I am not looking at anything except where to put the next swat."

I squirmed , still embarassed. I was having second thoughts about this. Usually when Dad spanked me, I was wearing pants. He had spanked my bare bottom when I was younger, but those instances were few and far between. I seemed to remember that hurting a lot more than a spanking on pants, and I wasn't sure how a spanking on my thin cotton underwear was going to feel.

"Put your hands up on the bed." he said. "I don't want to risk hurting your injured hand."

I moved my hands in front of me. He put his hand on my back.

"Dad- OWWWWW!" I cried out as he spanked me the first time. It stung, a lot, and it seemed like my underwear was not going to provide any sort of protection.

"OWIEEE!" I yelped as he spanked me again. I couldn't help it, I reached back to cover myself, and I bumped my hand against my back. A wave of pain traveled up my arm. "Ohhh" I moaned, tears in my eyes.

"Dammit Alyson, you need to listen to me" he snapped, and he moved my hands onto the bed and then swatted me 4 times. With my hand already throbbing, it seemed like too much. I burst into tears.

"Daddy" I sobbed. "Please. I don't think I can do this."

"You know what, Alyson? It's out of your hands. You don't get to decide any more. You've had a spanking coming to you for a while now. You've been mouthy and rude for a couple weeks, and you deserve to get your butt walloped." He spanked me several times, swatting the left side and then the right side and back to left.

"Ahhh! Daddyyyyy" I whined. I tried to turn my body and without thinking, reached back again.

"Little girl, I told you to keep your hands on the bed." he growled. "This is your last warning. Reach back again, and the underwear is coming off."

I moved my hand again. "Sorry Dad. I mean yes sir."

He shifted on the bed, moving so that his leg was resting over top of my legs, and tucked me firmly against his side, so that I was pinned more securely.

Then he began the spanking. Dad's technique is to build up in the same spot and then start on the other side, and then come back to the same spot but slightly above or below. When I was little, he would usually end the spanking when I started crying, but that wasn't happening today. In no time at all I was sobbing hard. He covered my whole bottom with swats, making me feel like my butt was on fire. He started to go back over the same spots again, re-igniting the pain that had dulled somewhat.

"Daaaad" I pleaded.

"You are going to follow the rules from now on, young lady." Dad said sternly.

"Yes, I will. Ple-EEEEEase" I squeaked as a harder swat landed.

"You will lose the attitude and speak respectfully to me."

"Yes suh-sir" my chest heaved. "I'm suh- SORREEEEEYYYY!" I wailed as several harder swats fell.

"If this keeps up, we are going to be right back in this position again. Do we need a repeat of what happened the last time you decided to break lots of rules?"

"Nuh- NO, SIR!" When I was younger, I had gone through a period where I was really angry all the time, and had acted like a huge brat , and decided that I wasn't going to follow any rules. It had ended with a huge showdown between Dad and me, and that was when he had given me the attitude adjustment.

"Good. Because you are not too old to get a spanking, and don't you forget that." He tightened his grip on me and gave me 10 very hard swats. He let me go and pulled the t-shirt down over my bottom. I laid there across his knee sobbing for a moment, then he lifted me up and sat me on his lap. I turned to him and cried on his chest as he hugged me. "All right." He said. "All done. You're okay now." He picked up my hand.

"Is your hand hurting?"

"Oh-only if I bump it on suh- something." I sniffled. "Thanks for letting me stay home from school, Dad."

"Even though you just got a spanking?"

"I deserved it." I said. "I've been a brat lately."

"Well, if you start having thoughts like you were having about feeling worthless and all that, I want you to come talk to me. Or talk to one of your brothers. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir" I said.

10.

Over the next week, Dean became restless because he had to let his shoulder heal, and I became restless because I felt like I couldn't do anything on my own. Dad or Sam dropped me off and picked me up from school, and I had to remind them about the days I was staying after for chorus practice.

"Dad, I need to go over to Jane's house so we can work on our science fair projects. We're doing a project together. Can't I just ride the bus to her house?"

"Why can't Sam take you over after dinner ?" he asked.

"Because we need as much time as possible! Please, Dad! Her mom said that she would feed me dinner and bring me home, so you guys don't have to come get me!"

"I'm not bothered by having to come and get you. Where does she live again?"

I told him and watched as he thought about it. "All right. You can ride the bus to her house. But you HAVE to text me when you get to her house and call for one of us to pick you up. And I want you home by 9 pm at the latest."

"Why can't her mom give me a ride home? And 9pm? We won't have hardly any time!" I complained. Dad leaned forward and looked at me.

"I will pick you up because I said so." he said sternly. "I don't want you staying up that late on a school night. And if you keep complaining about it, the answer is going to be no for everything. Is that clear?"

"Fine." I said bitterly. He grabbed my wrist. "Excuse me?"

"Okay!" He gave me a look. "Aly, you are very close to going straight to bed with a very sore bottom."

"I'm sorry sir." I looked down at my lap and he let go of my wrist.

"And one more thing. If you 'forget' to text or call me any more, you will be getting a bedtime spanking that night. Understand?"

I gulped. "What if-"

He held up his hand. "There are no what ifs. No forgetting. No excuses." he raised his eyebrows. "Young lady, I'm waiting for a response."

"Um, yes sir." I said.

When Dad picked me up at Jane's, he was acting funny. He had been on the phone a lot over the past couple of days and he and Sam had gone out doing research, but Sam wouldn't let me help with any of it or even tell me what it was. Dad and Sam went on an overnight road trip one night during the week, and a couple times they were gone all day and didn't get back until late. One night when they had come home late, Dad had caught me reading in bed, and had spanked me for staying up.

When we went into our house, he said to me, "Tomorrow after school, we need to have a talk." I thought back over the past couple of weeks- did I have any school work that I had forgotten about, had I done or said anything wrong?

"Why? Am I in trouble?" I got worried.

"No, it's nothing like that." He smiled at me.

"I'd rather you just spank me tonight." I told him. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "Don't worry. I told you, it's nothing like that. Okay? Now go get ready for bed." He smiled at me.

11.

Sam picked me up from school the next day. "How was school?" he asked.

"Fine." I looked at him. "Do you know why Dad needs to talk to me?"

"Yeeaah" he said slowly.

"What's it about?" I asked.

"I'm not telling you, we're all going to sit down when we get home."

"Oh my god, Sam, what is it?" I panicked.

"Calm down! It's nothing- I mean, you're not in trouble or anything. I swear."

"Saaaaammmm" I whined.

"No," he said firmly. "Stop bugging me about it, or I will tell Dad, and then you will be in trouble."

I stuck my tongue out at him and he saw me. "Hey" he said, and reached over to tickle me.

We sat down in the living room. I took a deep breath to try and calm down. I still wasn't convinced that they were going to tell me that all three of them were going to spank me or something like that.

"You know that we hunt things like vampires and shape shifters and werewolves." Dad said. "but we also hunt other things too. Like demons."

"Okay." I said. "I know you've exorcised some before.

"I have...discovered recently that the...thing that killed your mother is a demon. And that he may be after one of you." Dad looked at me seriously.

"What? A- a demon?" I looked at all of them. "How did it-"

"You don't need to know that." Dad said. "That is why we've been picking you up from school recently and I've been a little more strict about you doing things outside of school. I want you to be exceptionally careful around people that you don't know, and if you feel anything...out of place, you get the hell out of there if you can."

"Dad, you're scaring me."

"This is pretty serious, Aly" Dean said. "Why do you think I've been so impatient to get this damn bandage off? I want to go back to hunting this thing and gank it!"

"Can you do that? Kill it?"

"Yes, there are ways. We're still...well, I don't want to discuss that with you. The less you know, the better." Dad said. He took something out of his pocket. It was a pendant on a leather cord. "I want you to wear this all the time."

"What is is?"

"An anti-possession amulet." Dad told me.

"Possession? It can possess someone?" I suddenly felt very scared. "How would you know?"

"We have things we can do if we suspect." Sam said. "We'll be watching out for you, but you need to be careful and come home on time and let us know if anything weird happens, okay?"

12.

We were sitting at the dinner table eating. Dean glanced at me, and then said,

"So I was at Paulsen's last night playing pool and I ended up in a game with some locals."

"Win any money?" Dad asked.

"I wasn't playing for money, these were college kids. They never have any cash. Anyway, one of them starts talking about how his sister had a sleepover last weekend, and the girls got out a Ouija board and started messing around with it, and he was laughing because his sister's been freaked out ever since."

My fork stopped in mid-air and I swallowed nervously. I put my fork down.

"Is it something we need to check out?" Dad asked, taking a swallow of beer.

"No, I don't think so." Dean said. "His sister's name is Jenny Bragg." He was watching me intently.

Sam glanced at me. "Isn't that your friend from school?" he asked.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Aly?" Dean asked me slowly. Dad looked at me, realization dawning on his face. "Was this at the sleepover you went to last weekend?"

"Uh—yeah." I looked down at my plate.

"Dammit, Alyson!" Dad exclaimed. "You know that Ouija boards are not toys!"

"I told them that, Dad, but they wouldn't listen!" I said, getting nervous.

"Well then you should have called me to come pick you up!" Dad's voice got louder.

"Dad-"

"And you didn't think to tell me about it when you got home? Do you realize how dangerous that was? After what I just told you about what we're hunting?" Dad was full on shouting now, his eyes dark with anger.

"I'm sorry-"

"How could you be so stupid! You know, I was thinking of relaxing the restrictions on you a little bit, but now I see that I can't trust you, since you lied to me-"

"I didn't lie!" I said hotly.

"You didn't tell me! That's a lie of omission!" he shouted, slapping the table.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't matter! This could have been a matter of life and death!" He leaned forward. "Go to your room. I need to talk to your brothers about this."

"Dad-"

"Did you hear what I said? GO to your ROOM. I'll deal with you later." His voice was hard steel. So that was it. I was in trouble and was going to be punished. I stood up and went to my room and sat on my bed.

Several minutes went by and then Dad came in the room. He shut the door hard and came over and stood in front of the bed, his hands on his hips. He looked down at me, his face angry.

"Alyson, you need to realize how serious this is. You were involved with a Ouija board and then you lied about it. Something really bad could have happened."

"But it didn't" I squeaked nervously.

"You're missing the point. And I feel like there is only one way to impress on you the seriousness of this." He started to unbuckle his belt. I stared up at him, my stomach twisting. "Are you- are you gonna—" I couldn't finish my sentence. "No, Dad, please!" I begged.

He pulled the belt out of his belt loops and folded it in half and set it on the end of the bed. The buckle jingled cheerily, but it made my stomach twist even more. I stood up and tried to walk around him. "No—I don't want-" I stumbled over my words in panic.

He took my arm and pulled me back to him. He turned me to face him, still holding my upper arm, and unbuttoned my jeans. Tears came to my eyes and my throat went dry.

He moved us over to the side of the bed and sat down, putting me between his legs. He pulled my jeans down past my knees and then tried to pull me down. I fought back, trying to jerk away.

"No- Daddy, no, please, I'm so so sorry-"

"Alyson Elisabeth, I will double what I was already going to give you if you keep fighting!" his voice was loud and stern. I stopped fighting and let him pull me down over his knee. His legs trapped mine so that I couldn't move and he moved so that my upper body was on the bed. Then I felt his hand on the waistband of my underwear. I fought against him again. "Dad what are you doing! Nooo!"

He pulled my underwear down and swatted my bare bottom with his hand. I yelped.

"Don't you tell me no" he growled. He leaned over and picked up the belt, and I heard the buckle jingle again. I felt his hand on my back.

"You are 14 years old. That means I will give you 14 licks with the belt. That's what I did with the boys when they were your age. When you get older you'll get more depending on what you did. I'm hoping that this whipping deters you from ever needing another one though."

I heard the buckle and felt the movement of his arm and then WHAP! The belt hit my bottom in an explosion of pain. I jerked my body up. "NOOOO!" I howled. He pushed me back down on the bed. The belt came down again and I reached my hand back and cried out again.

"Uh-uh" he said, taking my hand and pinning it to the small of my back. He tucked me against his side so that I couldn't push up any more.

I heard the jingle and tried to steel myself for the pain but the blow hurt too much. "AHHH! Daddy, stop, please!" I begged, sobbing already. He brought the belt down a fourth time.

"Ten more to go." he told me.

"Please please I can't do this" I sobbed. The next 10 blows came steadily, one right after the other, each right below the next, setting my whole bottom ablaze. And then he set the belt down. I hadn't been counting, I was crying too hard to concentrate. I felt him pull up my underwear and then he pulled me up to sit on his knee. I gasped when I sat up because of the pain in my bottom. He put his arms around me and I grabbed onto his shirt and bawled into his chest.

"I don't like whipping you" he told me. "But if I think the situation warrants it, I will. I want you to remember this the next time you get into a situation like the slumber party."

"Yuh-yuh-yes suh-sir" My chest heaved with sobs. He stroked my hair back from my face and kissed my forehead.

"Do you understand how serious this is now?" he asked.

"Yuh-yessir" I said. "I'm suh-sorry I didn't tuh-tell you."

"When you've calmed down, I want you to tell all of us exactly what happened."

"Oh-okay Daddy." I sniffled, putting my arms around him.


	2. Chapter 2

14.

We were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner. Dean glanced at me, and then said casually,

"So I was at Paulsen's last night playing pool and I ended up in a game with some locals."

"Win any money?" Dad asked.

"I wasn't playing for money, these were college kids. They never have any cash. Anyway, one of them starts talking about how his sister had a sleepover last weekend, and the girls got out a Ouija board and started messing around with it, and he was laughing because his sister's been freaked out ever since."

My fork stopped in mid-air and I swallowed nervously. I put my fork down.

"Is it something we need to check out?" Dad asked, taking a swallow of beer.

"No, I don't think so." Dean said. "His sister's name is Jenny Bragg." He was watching me intently.

Sam glanced at me. "Isn't that your friend from school?" he asked.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Aly?" Dean asked me slowly. Dad looked at me, realization dawning on his face. "Was this at the sleepover you went to last weekend?"

"Uh—yeah." I looked down at my plate.

"Dammit, Alyson!" Dad exclaimed. "You know that Ouija boards are not toys!"

"I told them that, Dad, but they wouldn't listen!" I said, getting nervous.

"Well then you should have called me to come pick you up!" Dad's voice got louder.

"Dad-"

"And you didn't think to tell me about it when you got home? Do you realize how dangerous that was? After what I just told you about what we're hunting?" Dad was full on shouting now, his eyes dark with anger.

"I'm sorry-"

"How could you be so stupid! You know, I was thinking of relaxing the restrictions on you a little bit, but now I see that I can't trust you, since you lied to me-"

"I didn't lie!" I said hotly.

"You didn't tell me! That's a lie of omission!" he shouted, slapping the table.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't matter! This could have been a matter of life and death!" He leaned forward. "Go to your room. I need to talk to your brothers about this."

"Dad-"

"Did you hear what I said? GO to your ROOM. I'll deal with you later." His voice was hard steel. So that was it. I was in trouble and was going to be punished. I stood up and went to my room and sat on my bed.

Several minutes went by and then Dad came in the room. He shut the door hard and came over and stood in front of the bed, his hands on his hips. He looked down at me, his face angry.

"Alyson, you need to realize how serious this is. You were playing with a Ouija board and then you lied about it. Something really bad could have happened."

"But it didn't" I squeaked nervously.

"You're missing the point. And I feel like there is only one way to impress on you the seriousness of this." He started to unbuckle his belt. I stared up at him, my stomach twisting. "Are you- are you gonna—" I couldn't finish my sentence. "No, Dad, please!" I begged.

He pulled the belt out of his belt loops and folded it in half and set it on the end of the bed. The buckle jingled cheerily, but it made my stomach twist even more. I stood up and tried to walk around him. "No—I don't want-" I stumbled over my words in panic.

He took my arm and pulled me back to him. He turned me to face him, still holding my upper arm, and unbuttoned my jeans. Tears came to my eyes and my throat went dry.

He moved us over to the side of the bed and sat down, putting me between his legs. He pulled my jeans down past my knees and then tried to pull me down. I fought back, trying to jerk away.

"No- Daddy, no, please, I'm so so sorry-"

"Alyson Elisabeth, I will double what I was already going to give you if you keep fighting!" his voice was loud and stern. I stopped fighting and let him pull me down over his knee. His legs trapped mine so that I couldn't move and he moved so that my upper body was on the bed. Then I felt his hand on the waistband of my underwear. I fought against him again. "Dad what are you doing! Nooo!"

He pulled my underwear down and swatted my bare bottom with his hand. I yelped.

"Don't you tell me no" he growled. He leaned over and picked up the belt, and I heard the buckle jingle again. I felt his hand on my back.

"You are 14 years old. That means I will give you 14 licks with the belt. That's what I did with the boys when they were your age. When you get older you'll get more depending on what you did. I'm hoping that this whipping deters you from ever needing another one though."

I heard the buckle and felt the movement of his arm and then WHAP! The belt hit my bottom in an explosion of pain. I jerked my body up. "NOOOO!" I howled. He pushed me back down on the bed. The belt came down again and I reached my hand back and cried out again.

"Uh-uh" he said, taking my hand and pinning it to the small of my back. He tucked me against his side so that I couldn't push up any more.

I heard the jingle and tried to steel myself for the pain but the blow hurt too much. "AHHH! Daddy, stop, please!" I begged, sobbing already. He brought the belt down a fourth time.

"Ten more to go." he told me.

"Please please I can't do this" I sobbed. The next 10 blows came steadily, one right after the other, each right below the next, setting my whole bottom ablaze. And then he set the belt down. I hadn't been counting, I was crying too hard to concentrate. I felt him pull up my underwear and then he pulled me up to sit on his knee. I gasped when I sat up because of the pain in my bottom. He put his arms around me and I grabbed onto his shirt and bawled into his chest.

"I don't like whipping you" he told me. "But if I think the situation warrants it, I will. I want you to remember this the next time you get into a situation like the slumber party."

"Yuh-yuh-yes suh-sir" My chest heaved with sobs. He stroked my hair back from my face and kissed my forehead.

"Do you understand how serious this is now?" he asked.

"Yuh-yessir" I said. "I'm suh-sorry I didn't tuh-tell you."

"When you've calmed down, I want you to tell all of us exactly what happened."

"Oh-okay Daddy." I sniffled, putting my arms around him. We sat for a few more minutes while I calmed down and then we went back out to the living room. I sat down gingerly on the end of the sofa. My butt felt like it was never going to stop throbbing.

"Okay, so um, Lauren had brought a bunch a nail polish to the sleepover, because her mom works at a salon, and we were all painting each other's nails-" I started.

"Skip to the relevant part" Dean interrupted me.

"It will be relevant in a minute, just hold your horses!" I glared at Dean. "While we were doing that, someone brought up an urban legend about a house in the area that's haunted but the ghosts only come out when there's a thunderstorm or something like that. Then they started talking about scary movies, and a couple girls wanted to watch one. I didn't want to and I tried to convince them not to. Then Jenny said she had something better than a scary movie." I swallowed. Dad leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"She brought out the Ouija board and said she had found it in the attic and it was really old. I told them we shouldn't play with it and that it was dangerous, but a couple of them laughed at me." I bit my lip, remembering how it had hurt my feelings. Lauren had actually called me a child. "One of the other girls, who is religious, said that she didn't want to do it either because her mom said that Ouija boards are evil and that if her mom found out she'd have to do penance. She actually sat on the sofa while we were doing it."

Dad raised his eyebrows. "So someone else chose not to be involved, but you did, even though you know how potentially dangerous it can be? I'm surprised at you, Aly."

I couldn't explain to him how it felt to be included by the girls, since I had spent much of my life feeling excluded and left behind by my family since they were hunters and I wasn't good enough to join them. So I didn't even try.

"I'm sorry, Dad." I said, looking at the floor and feeling ashamed.

"Peer pressure can be a helluva thing" Dean said. "So then what happened?"

"We waited until midnight and Jenny went and got some candles and lit them. We sat in a circle on the floor and one of the girls made a big show about asking if any spirits wanted to communicate."

"Oh, my god" Dean rolled his eyes.

"She likes to watch those ghost hunting shows, so she knew what to say. We put our hands on the planchette and it didn't move for a couple minutes. Then it started moving really slow. It spelled out 'I am here'. A couple of us got freaked out and pulled away, but Lauren and Sarah convinced us to put our hands back on it. So we did. Then Haley asked if there was someone in the room they wanted to talk to, and-" I swallowed nervously. "It spelled out A-L-I."

"God dammit, Alyson!" Sam yelled at me. "Why the hell didn't you tell us about this right away?" He glared at me.

"Because, Sam, it felt fake! I swear, they were pushing the planchette around, just to bug me, because I hadn't wanted to do it. Lauren said I was too immature to handle it. I got freaked out again and got up from the circle and wouldn't sit back down again." I glanced at Dad. His face was angry.

"Th-then Haley asked what the ghost's name was, and it spelled A-Z-A, and then Tabitha turned the lights on and startled everyone, and she was crying because she has a grandfather whose name was Asa. She's the religious one and she said that it was evil and that it was the devil trying to talk to her through her grandfather. That made them stop." I looked at them, and they were all looking at each other with shocked looks on their faces.

Dean stood up and came over to me and grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me up off the sofa. "How could you be so fucking stupid!" he yelled in my face. "You should have told us about this the minute you walked in the door! God, if Dad hadn't just whipped your ass, I swear I'd be taking off my belt right now!" He gave me the Winchester Glare, his green eyes snapping at me. "In fact, I just might anyway!" He let go of me and pushed me down onto the sofa and walked away, raking his hands through his hair. He stopped and looked at Dad. "What the fuck are we going to do?"

Tears filled my eyes because Dean had never yelled at me like that before. I didn't understand why he was so upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Alyson, go to your room" Dad said.

"But why-"

"I SAID GO TO YOUR ROOM!" he shouted in a fury. I felt scared. I don't think I had ever seen him this angry before. "I need to talk to your brothers again." he said tersely.

I stood up. "How come nobody ever tells me anything?" I complained angrily. I started to walk past Dad and he grabbed my upper arm and swatted my butt 3 times. It reawakened the sting in my bottom. "Oww!" I whined.

"Stow the attitude before I decide to whip you again." he said tightly. "You're on thin ice here." He let go of my arm and I walked to my bedroom and threw myself on my bed and cried. Why were they so angry at me?


	3. Chapter 3

15.

Dad increased the restrictions on me. He wouldn't let me got to any more after school rehearsals, and I got really mad at him and yelled at him, and he spanked me for yelling at him. All 3 of them were acting like they were angry at me and being really strict. They were constantly checking up on me and Dad had even gone through my phone and asked about my friends list and would scroll through my messages every so often. This pissed me off, but I didn't want another spanking, so I didn't say anything. Dad had said he was doing all this stuff to keep me safe, but it really did seem like it was because he didn't trust me. That made me mad too. So we were all acting pretty grumpy with each other for a while.

16.

"Pack a bag for the weekend" Dad said. "We have a hunt and I'm taking you to Bobby's."

"What?" I said angrily. "I don't want to go to Bobby's. Why can't I stay here?"

"Because you are going to Bobby's." he said in a hard voice.

"Why don't you trust me any more?" I snapped. "Just because of that stupid Ouija board-"

"Alyson, don't question me. Do as I say." he growled, looking angry.

"I think you owe me an explanation as to why you're coming down so hard on me right now!" I shouted.

"I do not 'owe you' anything, little girl" he said sternly. He held up his hand with his thumb and forefinger close together. "You are this close to me hauling you over my knees, so knock it off unless you want to go to bed with a sore bottom tonight!"

I swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry, Dad." I said meekly.

"That's better. Now go get packed up."

17.

I packed some clothes in a suitcase and put some books in a tote bag. Bobby has a ton of books at his place, but a lot of them are really old, or they're on weird subjects like "How to combat werewolves in the 15th century" and stuff like that.

Dean picked me up from school on Friday afternoon. Sam was in the passenger seat. I had chosen to ride with them because for one thing, I was trying to stay out of the way of Dad since he's been so grumpy lately, and I also was hoping they'd explain what has had them so upset.

I sat forward in the back seat. "Guys" I started, "Why has Dad been acting like such a hardass with me lately?"

Sam glanced back at me. "We've already been through this, Aly. You were incredibly irresponsible, and you pretty much lost our trust."

I was stunned. "Incredibly irresponsible?" I repeated. "Just because I didn't tell you about something that happened at a slumber party?'

"Kid, you do know that this is a demon we're tracking? THE demon that killed mom? Do you understand how dangerous this is?" Dean looked at me in the rear view mirror.

"No, I don't understand., since nobody TELLS ME ANYTHING!" I said, my voice getting louder with annoyance. "Why don't you make me understand?"

"Dad has told you since day one never to fool around with stuff like that. You should already know how dangerous it is. Yet you chose to be involved." Sam said. He turned partway around so he was facing me, his arm across the top of the front seat.

"Okay, so I made a mistake!" I crossed my arms. "I'm sorry!"

"Sorry's not good enough" Sam said. "You like to complain about how Dad doesn't trust you and that it's not fair, and then you go and pull a stupid stunt like this."

"Geez, Sam, why don't you tell me how you really feel!" I said sarcastically, tears springing to my eyes. I blinked them back.

"You're the one that brought this up, Alyson." He said angrily. "Why did you ask if you didn't want to hear what we have to say? You only want to hear what you want!"

"So you guys really do think that I'm stupid and irresponsible?" I asked.

"Not in so many words, but yes." Dean said, and I could tell he was trying to tease me to lighten the mood.

"I'm being serious!"

"Aly, Dad told you a while ago to really keep an eye out for strange things happening, remember that? And to tell us if anything out of the ordinary did happen?" Sam asked. "And then you end up fooling with a Ouija board and you hide it from us."

"We both should have beat your ass for that" Dean said to me, nodding at Sam.

"Thanks, Dad did quite a number on me that night." I said sarcastically. "That was enough."

"I don't know if it was, since you're still whining about how you're being treated and how unfair everything is." Sam said.

"I'm not whining!" I snapped angrily.

"Yeah you are" they both said at the exactly the same time.

"Why are you guys being so mean to me? I wanted to ride with you so I could get some answers, not have you jump on me!" Tears were once again threatening to fall.

"No, I think you wanted to complain and have us agree with you about how unfair everything is, when it's actually a consequence of your actions, and you're just not owning up to it." Sam told me.

I had had quite enough of him. "Fuck off, Sam!" I snapped angrily.

His eyes got big and he looked really angry.

"What did you say?" Dean looked at me in the rear view mirror again. "What-did- you- just- say?" he said in his "I'm deadly serious and about to kick your ass" voice.

"You heard me" I ground out. I was really angry too.

"Pull the car over, Dean" Sam said in a hard voice that I had never heard him use before. Dean found a shoulder and pulled over onto it. The car had barely stopped and Sam was out and yanking the back door open. He got in the back seat next to me and unbuckled my seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" I asked him. He grabbed me and pulled me over his knees and started swatting my butt really hard. I screamed and tried to fight him, but since he's huge and a lot stronger than me, he had me pinned over his lap in a matter of seconds and I couldn't move. I heard a phone ring and Dean said, "Hello?" and then got out of the car and walked away, talking.

"Sam let me up! OWWW! Sam, stop it!" I yelled at him as he continued to spank me.

"Don't. You. Ever. Say. That. To. Me. Again." he snarled, punctuating each word with with a hard swat.

"You're being a dick!" I said. "You all are! And I'm sick of it!"

I had thought Sam was hitting me hard. I was wrong. The blows rained down, even harder and faster, and took my breath away. I burst into tears.

"Keep talking, little girl." Sam said in that scary hard voice. "Give me a reason to take my belt off." He kept hitting me, harder and harder, and my bottom was on fire and there was never any break from the swats and it seemed like it was never going to be over.

"Sam, ease up." I heard Dean say. "Sam!" The hard swats continued.

I heard a truck pulling up behind us. Dean's voice said, "Dad's here."

Sam spanked me several more times, right on the tops of my thighs, and I squealed. Then he let me up.

"Get out of the car" he said in that voice. I was crying so hard I could barely see.

"Here" Dean said, and then Dad was there and he took my arm.

"Come on" he said to me. He was holding my back pack. He walked me over to the truck and helped me get in- it's one of those huge trucks that you have to climb up into- and I slumped against the door, bawling my eyes out. My bottom was throbbing and sore but I didn't care. My heart hurt worse.

Sam had never spanked me before, and now he had just given me one of the hardest spankings I had ever gotten. He had swatted me in the past, but he and I had a special relationship. I always behaved for him when it was just me and him and he was taking care of me while Dean and Dad were on a hunt. I couldn't believe that I said that to him. I couldn't believe that he had spanked me like that. His anger was scary.

Finally after a long time, I sat up, my chest hitching. Dad handed me a pile of napkins and I blew my nose and wiped my face off. I saw him glance at me.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"No" I said miserably. I cleared my throat and then started talking any way. "I'm suh-sorry. I'm sorry I'm stuh-stupid and irresponsible and that I 'm not any good at—at doing all the stuff that Dean and Sam can do. You must think I'm a failure." My chest was still hitching with sobs.

"Why do you think that?" he asked, reaching over to cup my cheek with his hand for a moment. He brushed my hair over my shoulder.

"Because I can't hunt with you guys! You tried to tuh- teach me a long time ago and I suh-sucked at everything!" Tears filled my eyes as I remembered how bad I would feel every time I failed at something and I would look at Dad and see the disappointment in his eyes for a moment, before he would sigh and say, "Let's move on to something else."

"Some people aren't cut out for it." he said. "You're going to make a great researcher. You do a really good job and I know that Sam appreciates all the help you give him."

At the mention of Sam's name I started crying again. "Yeah well you'd never know that! He's been really short with me recently and he won't let me help anymore and I just don't understand!" I dissolved into sobs.

I felt his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it.

"You're not stupid and you're not a failure"Dad said quietly. "I don't think that and neither do the boys. I want you to stop being so hard on yourself."

I unbuckled my seatbelt and buckled into the one that was in the middle of the seat so I could be next to him. He put his arm around me and I snuggled into his side, smelling his leather jacket and feeling its coldness against my cheek.

I woke up laying on my side. It took me a minute to figure out where I was. Dad was taking off my shoes. I was in a bed, so we must be at Bobby's house. Dad covered me with a quilt and leaned down and kissed my cheek. Then he left the room.

18.

The next morning I woke up with a start, feeling like something was terribly wrong. I hurried downstairs. Dad and Bobby were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. They had already eaten and their plates were on the table, pushed to the side. I went up to Dad and hugged him. "Morning" he said to me.

"Hey, Uncle Bobby" I said, and walked over to hug him.

"Hey, Shorty" he said. I sat down next to him and winced as my sore butt touched the hard wood of the chair. Dad noticed and raised his eyebrows.

"Are Dean and –Sam up yet?" I asked. Dad glanced at Bobby and said to me, "They've already gone."

"They didn't say goodbye to me." I said.

"They wanted to get an early start." Dad said, taking a swallow of coffee. I tried to will the tears back. I had hoped to be able to apologize to Sam and make up with him, but I was a little scared that he was still angry with me. I wondered if they had left that early to avoid having to deal with me.

"When you see them, tell them both that I'm sorry. Especially Sam. Tell him I'm sorry for what I said." I looked down at my lap.

"You want some pancakes?" Bobby asked me.

"Sure" I said. He brought over a plate of pancakes and set a plate in front of me.

"Careful, that plate's been in the oven and it's hot. Here's a fork." he said.

"Thanks." I said. I took 2 pancakes and cut them up and ate them.

Dad cleared his throat and shifted. "I should get going, I don't want to be too far behind the boys." He stood up and I got up too and went over to him. He gave me a bear hug and held me extra long. I hugged him back as hard as I could. He kissed the top of my head and said, "See you soon."

I followed him out to the porch. "Dad, wait" I said. He turned back to me. "Don't go yet" I said, feeling like I was a scared little kid being left behind again. "Something bad is going to happen."

"What do you mean?" he asked, concern on his face. He walked back to the porch.

"I don't know, I just have this bad feeling." I said. "Please?"

He came over to me and hugged me again. We stood there on the front porch, and he rocked us back and forth slightly. "It'll be okay." he said. "I'll call you tonight. Be good for Bobby."

"I will." I said, fighting back tears. He let go of me and walked down the stairs.

"I love you Dad." I called to him, and he turned around and smiled at me, showing his dimples. "Love you back." he said.

I watched him drive away and stayed on the front porch until I was sure I wasn't going to cry any more.

Bobby asked me how school was going and what books I was reading. He told me he wanted to make some soup, so I washed up and put on an apron. When I stay with him, we like to cook together, things like chili and soup. There's something comforting about being in his kitchen with the smells of all the fresh herbs and vegetables and everything.

He started a huge pot with the beef bone in it for the stock and I sat at the table and started peeling and slicing vegetables. We worked on everything for an hour or so and finally everything was peeled and chopped and ready to be put in the pot.

"Will ya make your dumplings tonight?" he asked me.

"Yeah." I said. He always said that I made better soup dumplings than him. I would do that when the soup was almost ready to eat, because those kind of dumplings are the best when they are freshly made.

We moved into the library and I got out the Margaret Atwood book that Sam had bought for me. I felt sad when I remembered him giving it to me when they got home a couple weeks ago. We had been happy to see each other. Now it felt like something had broken in our relationship.

Bobby looked through his books and manuscripts, occasionally mumbling to himself, and making notes, and I read. We passed the afternoon this way.

19.

Dad didn't call until late that night. I could hear music and noise in the background and guessed that he was at a bar.

"Will you be done by tomorrow?" I asked.

"We should be if things go the way they're planned." he said.

I waited a minute. "Are Sam and Dean there?" I asked, hoping he'd hand the phone to one of them.

"Yeah, they're both playing pool right now and you know how Dean gets when he gets in the zone." He concentrated very hard during a game and didn't want to be interrupted by talking or phone calls or anything except shots. Of alcohol.

"Oh" I said, disappointed. I wondered if they really were playing or if Dad was just telling me that because they didn't want to talk to me.

"It's late, you should get to bed" he said to me.

"You too, young man." I teased, and he chuckled.

"We'll let you know where things stand tomorrow."

"Okay. Love you."

"Love you back. Goodnight." and he hung up.

Instead of making me feel better, the phone call just made me feel worse. My brothers probably didn't want to talk to me. They probably hated me because I was such a brat, and useless when it came to The Hunt. I couldn't do anything to avenge our mother, not that they would even let me. And that made me feel like nothing. I couldn't even remember her, as she had died when I was 6 months old.

I fell asleep with tears on my face, and that night I dreamed of a man whose face was in shadow, except for his yellow eyes. He was staring at me, and I could feel myself start to shudder.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, the last part of this chapter gets dark. I'm not sure where it came from, because it was not my intention to follow the canon of the show with regards to the demon that killed their mother. To be honest, I'm not sure which direction to go right now. Please let me know what you think. Thank you so much for taking the time to read...**

20.

They came back the next day in the middle of the afternoon. Dad walked in the door first and I ran to him and hugged him.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked him worriedly.

"Yeah, we're fine. It was a pretty straightforward salt and burn."

I turned to Dean, who was getting a beer out of the refrigerator. "Hi Dean" I said uncomfortably. He opened the bottle and took a long swallow.

"Hey kid" he said.

"I'm sorry about the car ride" I said, feeling ashamed.

"Dad told me. It's over and done with, let it go." He would barely look at my eyes.

"Where's Sam?" I looked around for him.

"He's, uh, tired. He wanted to get some rest before we left for home."

"Oh." I said.

Dean and Dad sat with Bobby in the kitchen talking about the case. It felt like they were barely acknowledging me. I wondered if Dean and Sam were still mad at me, and if Dad was too.

When Sam woke up a couple hours later I tried to talk to him. He wouldn't look at me, and every time I went into a room he was in, he left. I ran upstairs to my room and laid down on my bed, crying. It felt like everything was ruined.

Someone knocked on my door. It was Dad. "What's the matter?" he asked, coming over to the bed.

"Sam hates me." I sobbed. "He won't talk to me or even look at me!"

Dad sat down on the bed and rubbed my back. "He doesn't hate you." he said. "Nobody hates you. Would you come downstairs please?"

I wiped my face off and followed him downstairs. He led me into the library and pointed to the sofa. "Sit down" he told me, and I did. He left the room and came back in a moment leading Sam. He pointed to the other end of the sofa.

"Sit down." he said to Sam. "I want you two to stay in here until you've talked this out." Then he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

I sat forward, looking at the floor. I felt nervous.

"Um, I'm sorry about what I said to you in the car" I said quietly. "Are you still mad at me?"

Sam was staring at the floor. He chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm not mad at you. I figured you hated me." He turned toward me and looked at me. His eyes were shiny and I realized he was trying not to cry.

"What? Why would I hate you?" I was stunned.

"Because I beat your ass and I was too hard on you. Both Dean and Dad reamed me about it. Dad told me you were wincing the next day every time you sat down." He looked down at the floor again.

"Yeah, I have bruises." I admitted.

"Damn" he said softly. "I'm really sorry. We all know I have an issue with my temper, and I guess it just got away from me. And I really hurt you." He swallowed, and his face looked regretful. He glanced up at me again.

"The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, Aly." he said quietly. He wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye.

"Why did you guys leave early? Why have you been walking away every time I come around today?" I asked, feeling the hurt rise up.

"I felt bad about it and I figured you hated me, or at the very least you were going to ream me too. I didn't want to have to deal with that right before a hunt, and I guess I've been afraid of facing your reaction." He sighed and rubbed his face.

"You're afraid of little ol' me?" I teased him.

He looked at me with a grin. "You've got the Winchester temper too, you know. You can be pretty formidable when you're pissed."

"Not me, I'm just a sweet little girl" I shook my head and batted my eyelashes at him.

He leaned over to me and grabbed me. "Listen to you. Get over here" he said, and he started to tickle me. I shrieked and grabbed his hands, and then he pulled me into a hug.

"Are we okay?" he asked, his face in my hair. I put my arms around him and hugged him back.

"We're okay" I said. I heard the door open and Dad came in.

"All better now?" he asked. We both turned toward him.

"Yes, we are" we both said, and Sam tickled my side again.

21.

I rode with my brothers on the way home. I fell asleep on the way home and started dreaming. There was fire and darkness and a sense of dread. I felt scared. I felt- and saw- a man standing near me, and when he turned to me, his eyes were yellow. He smiled at me and reached out for me. I tried to move away from him, and he took my arm. I screamed-

"ALY!" Dean said loudly. I opened my eyes. He was leaning back into the backseat, holding my arm. "What the hell were you dreaming about?" he asked. "You were moaning and then you screamed."

I sat up. "I- I can't remember." I lied, not looking at him.

"Do you need me to pull over? You sound pretty shaken up" Sam glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

"No, I'm okay"I said."Let's just get home."

22.

I walked out to the curb and walked around to the driver's side of the Impala.

Dean rolled down the window and looked up at me. "What's up?"

"Um, Ms. Brown called an emergency rehearsal right now, for about 45 minutes...can I go? Please?"

He held my eyes. "You're not supposed to be doing any after school stuff, are you?"

"I know, but she found out that we're going to go over to the elementary school next week and perform for them. Please can I go? Pleeeease?" I crossed my fingers.

Dean looked at me for a long moment, then he sighed.

"All right." he said. "Stay there, I'm going to park and come in." He put the car in gear and drove it around to the parking lot.

I waited for him at the front door of the school.

"Thank you for letting me do this." I said.

"Yeah, well, I just hope Dad doesn't bust my chops" he said. He walked next to me as we walked through the halls. There were still a lot of people there for the various after school activities.

"Hey, sweet ride!" a guy called to us as we walked past. Dean turned and gave him a funny look.

"It's Impala girl!" said another guy who I knew was a jock. He looked at Dean. "Your car is wicked!" he said with a grin.

Dean looked at me. "How do all these people know the car?"

"Oh come on, Dean, it's not like the Impala blends in. You can hear it coming for miles, and practically all the guys at the school drool after it when you pull up to the curb."

" 'Impala girl'?" he asked me.

"That's what a lot of people call me because they see me getting into the car. Even some of the popular people know me because of it!"

He smiled like he was proud of himself. "Well, that makes me feel like all my work on Baby through the years has been justified."

We walked to the music room and I introduced Dean to my teacher. I turned to the guys in the choir. "And yes, this is the guy who drives the Impala, so if you want to ooh and aah over it, get it out of your system now."

Two of the guys went up to Dean and started asking him questions about the car and the work he had done for a few minutes.

"All right, people, let's get started. We only have about 40 minutes" Ms. Brown said. Dean walked over to the edge of the room and sat down in a chair. I felt embarassed that he was in the room watching, so I avoided his eyes.

When it was over, the guys chatted with Dean as we walked out to the parking lot, and came over to the car and looked at it. My phone rang as we were standing there.

"Aly, what's going on?" Dad asked. "Why are you still at school?"

"Oh, I, um, there was an emergency rehearsal for choir because we're going to be performing next week and Dean said I could go to it." I held my breath, waiting for him to get mad.

"I see" Dad's voice was stern. "Is he there?"

"Yeah, he's talking to some guys about the car."

"He's talking to some guys about the car?"

"Yeah, practically everyone in the school knows the Impala and a lot of the guys like it."

"Well, tell him that he needs to get a move on."

"Okay. See you in a bit." I was relieved that he hadn't yelled at me.

"Dean" I said. "Dad called. We need to go."

"Okay" Dean said goodbye to the guys and we got in the car. Dean's phone rang after we were on the road for a few minutes.

I could hear Dad's voice on the phone, but I couldn't hear what he was saying, just that his voice was loud.

"Yeah..." Dean said. "I don't know, I figured if I was there to keep an eye on things it would be okay...I know that, Dad...well, she just-" Dean glanced at me. "Okay, Dad. Yes sir. I'm sorry... Okay." He hung up the phone and looked at me.

"You and those damn puppy dog eyes, just like Sam. Now Dad's pissed at me for letting you go." he sighed.

"Sorry Dean." I said.

"I had no idea that people knew about the car" he said.

"It's pretty funny when you consider that I'm a big nerd, but popular guys know who I am and say hi to me because of the car!" I laughed.

"Speaking of guys" Dean said. "The guy with the curly brown hair, is he one of your classmates?"

"No, he's older than me. Why?"

"He likes you."

"What?! No, I don't think so, Dean."

"Yeah he does" he insisted.

"How do you know that?"

"Sweetheart, I was a teenage boy once, I know the signs. And he's definitely got his eye on you."

"Well, you don't have to worry, because the feeling is _not_ mutual" I told him.

"Good" Dean said. He glanced at me again. "You really like singing in the choir, don't you?"

"Yes" I said. "It's something that I'm good at and I like it."

"I could tell. I was watching you, and you were really into it. I could pick out your voice too. You sounded good." He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. "I'm glad you found something that you like to do."

"Thanks again for letting me go." I said. "Even if Dad gets mad at both of us."

23.

Dad was indeed mad at us, although moreso at Dean than at me.

"I put rules in place for a reason, Dean" Dad said. "Not for Aly to ignore when she feels like it, not for you to ignore either."

"Dad, I know. I said I was sorry."

"Dean, you know we have to be careful right now!" Dad snapped. He turned to me.

"What was this rehearsal for? You said you're going to be performing next week?"

"Yeah, Ms. Brown just found out that the elementary school wants all the music groups to perform there to give the kids a chance to see what they're like, The band is going this week and the choir is going next week. Can I go?"

"When is it?"

"It'll be during school, Ms. Brown will drive one of the big school vans."

"I don't know, let me think about it."

"Dad, please!" I said.

He gave me a look. "What did I just say, Alyson? If you keep pestering me the answer is going to be no."

I turned to go to my room. "You're probably just going to say no anyway." I muttered under my breath.

"What did you say to me?" he asked sternly. He walked up to me and took my arm and turned me to face him.

"I said you're probably just going to say no anyway!" I flared. " That's all you seem to do these days anyway, is tell me no about anything that I like doing!"

"Keep it up, little girl, and you're going to end up going to bed with a sore bottom!" he said from between clenched teeth.

"Aly, let it go" Dean said. "Don't you have homework to do?"

"Yes" I said shortly. Dad let go of my arm and I stomped out of the living room. I stopped just short of slamming my bedroom door. That was one sure fire way to end up in trouble, because Dad didn't like doors being slammed and he was already pissy.

24.

There had been a huge argument about whether or not I could go to the concert at the elementary school. Dad had decided that in no uncertain terms was I allowed to go, which made me really angry.

At the last minute, I decided to forge his signature on the permission slip. Ms. Brown was surprised to see me when I turned up in the chorus room because I had initially told her that I wasn't allowed to go.

She drove us to the elementary school in one of the school vans and we went into the music room. She was a little disappointed because the regular music teacher wasn't there, it was a sub who didn't know what was going on. Ms. Brown had to explain everything to her. A couple of us carried some chairs from the music room to the stage.

The substitute teacher, a Ms. Smith, asked me to come with her to get some music stands. I followed her down a hallway.

There was a man standing in front of a huge closet that was open. "In here" he said. I went into the closet, it had extra chairs and music stands and boxes of music books and cases with instruments in them.

"We'll need eight stands" I said. I turned toward the door.

Ms. Smith and the man were standing directly in front of me, blocking the door, and staring down at me. I looked at them and got goosebumps over my whole body. Both of them had completely black eyes. The man raised his hand; I felt a pinch in my neck and then my vision went dark.

25.

I woke up slowly. I was sitting up in a chair. Mr arms were tied to the arms of the chair, and I could feel something around my torso holding me against the chair, and each of my ankles was tied to a chair leg. I heard movement in the room and opened my eyes.

"There she is" said a voice. It was Ms. Smith and the man who had been at the school with her.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Do you want money? I'm sure that-"

She laughed. "Oh, we don't want money." She came over and leaned down to me and whispered in my ear. "Just your soul."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, sweetheart. There's no way that John Winchester's daughter has no idea why she's here."

"I don't." I said." Who are you and how do you know my dad?"

She looked at the man and they laughed. "She thinks she's so clever." she said.

I was starting to feel really scared. "Please" I said. "Let me go, I won't tell anyone."

"Not until you have a meeting with someone." she said.

I swallowed. "A meeting?"

"Someone who's been waiting for you for a long time."

"What are you talking about?" I looked back and forth at them. We heard footsteps and then a door opened.

A man came in and walked up to me. He looked familiar.

"Hello there, Alyson" he said. His voice chilled me. He grinned and blinked and then his eyes changed to yellow.

I screamed. It was the man from my dreams.

"Who-who are you?" I asked, fear making my voice shake.

"I tried to get in touch with you before." He said. "But those pesky girls stopped before I could properly introduce myself. My name is Azazel."

"What? You mean...at the slumber party? That was...real?" I swallowed nervously.

He nodded. "They stopped just before it got good." he said with a throaty chuckle.

"What do you want?" I asked breathlessly.

"I want you" he said. "Not your father, not your brothers, just you."

"Why? How do you know about them?"

"I've been waiting for a long time" he said. "And I think you're ready to come with me."

"I don't want to go with you, I want to go home!"I said, tears coming to my eyes.

He leaned down and got in my face. "Ooh, are you crying for your family? Why is that, now? You know you don't belong." he taunted. He straightened up and walked away.

"What are you talking about?'

He turned toward me. "Well we know you're not a hunter. All the training your daddy tried to give you failed dismally. And that, well that's what your family does. They hunt things, and you're stuck at home cooking and cleaning."

"That doesn't matter!" I said hotly.

He came closer to me again. "To who? To you, or to them? Because you know that's the most important thing to them. Hunting things, saving people; what a rush it must be!" He leaned down again and made a sad face. "And then imagine the disappointment when your youngest doesn't follow in your footsteps like the other kids."

"Stop it" I said. He laughed.

"Oh, hit a nerve, did I?" he stood up again. "You see, that's why you need to come with me. I'll accept you for whatever you are. Hunter or failure, you'll be an important part of my family."

"No" I said. "Please just let me go." I looked up at him. "They're going to be looking for me, you know."

He chuckled evilly. "You sure about that? They're probably rejoicing that they don't have to find someone to keep an eye on you any more when they leave on a case. Glad that baggage is gone!" he grinned at me.

Tears came to my eyes.

"That's not true!" I exclaimed. I turned my head away and closed my eyes, willing the tears to stop.

"You're crying because you know it's true. Deep in your heart, you know it's true. Look inside yourself, and then you can come to me when you're ready." He motioned to the others and they all left the room. I sat there and cried.


	5. Chapter 5

They came back later and the man with yellow eyes stood in front of me.

"Please let me go" I begged.

"Sweetheart, you have nowhere _to_ go." said the man with the yellow eyes. "The Winchester failure _can't_ go home. After all, it _is_ your fault that your mother died."

I started crying again. "SHUT UP!" I screamed. "YOU'RE LYING!"

"They can't stand to be around you because of that, you know. That's why they always leave you behind. The fact that you're a failure is just a convenient excuse."

"Fuck off!" I snarled.

He laughed and walked away from me. The other two started to walk around the room, placing candles on the floor in certain places and sprinkling things on the floor between the candles. They lit the candles and then the music teacher came over holding a bowl. The yellow eyed man came over holding a huge knife.

I struggled in the chair, getting scared. Were they going to kill me?

The other man came over and cut the ropes off of my arm with a smaller knife and then took my arm and held it out to the side. They all started chanting together and their eyes turned black. The room seemed to get very dark and very cold, and I felt pressure in my head.

I tried to pull my arm away. "Get off" I said. "GET OFF!" I got an idea. I started saying the Latin Exorcism prayer loudly.

"Oh, fuck no" said the woman. She backhanded me across the face and I tasted blood. "Shut the fuck up, you little bitch." The other guy walked behind me and then a moment later I felt something go around my head. They gagged me with a rag, tying it behind my head. Then she hit me again, so hard that my ears were ringing. They started chanting again and then he raised the knife. The chanting got more insistent and then the knife came down and sliced into my arm and I screamed. There was a breeze in the room making the candle flames jump. They held my arm out and watched as my blood poured into the bowl. I started to feel light headed.

Finally they had enough. They tied a rag around the wound on my arm and they tied my arm up again. They blew out the candles and left me alone in the dark with my tears.

They came in again much later and prepared to do the same thing to my other arm.I went into my mind and sank into memories so that I wouldn't be here with this terror and sadness. I made myself not listen to the chanting. I barely felt them slicing open my other arm and then binding it with a rag and tying my arms painfully behind me. I stayed in my mind...

I remembered being small and sitting on the sofa watching as Sam and Dad argued with each other, their faces angry and their words harsh, and seeing Dean step in between them, his face pale and uncomfortable. And Sam slamming out of the room, and going to find him later, and him pushing me away and telling me to leave him alone.

I remembered being small and getting caught playing with one of Dad's big knives, it was so shiny I just had to touch it when he stepped out of the room for a moment, and not being able to sit comfortably for a few days after he was done with me.

I remembered trying to learn how to fight, but I just couldn't raise my hands against my brothers, it didn't feel right, and Sam would reach out and push me or cuff me gently and then I would start crying. And Dad had sighed and told me to go sit down.

I remembered snuggling between my brothers on the sofa while we watched old black and white monster movies and ate popcorn together while waiting for Dad to come back.

I remembered being left for a week or more with different people while the 3 of them went hunting, being scared that they were never coming back and not knowing how to articulate that fear, and being angry at being left for so long, and not being able to say that either, and then having the fear and anger show itself in bad behavior. And instead of going to them for reassurances and love, I pushed them away and got anger and punishments in return.

I remembered how happy I would be when the school bus would stop at the bus stop and Dad would get out of the car to surprise me when he came back early, and running off the bus and into his arms. He would lift me up and swing me into the air and I would always shriek a little because it made my tummy flutter.

I remembered holding the child-sized bow that we had and trying to shoot an arrow, and not being able to coordinate my hands and fumbling with the arrow and the bowstring. And then the arrow just flying straight into the forest floor or going wide of the target. And I got frustrated and walked away crying.

I remembered wanting to snuggle with Dad after he had been away and him being in pain from injuries and getting short with me when I bugged him about it. And then getting older and getting angrier and not wanting to be around him, and pushing him away, and seeing the confusion and hurt on his face when I wouldn't go to him any more.

I stayed in this place inside myself even though they came back and tried to rouse me. I kept my eyes closed. The yellow eyed man yelled at me. He struck me again and again. I tasted blood eventually and felt it trickling down the side of my face. Still I stayed in my head while he talked to me, filling my mind with poisonous thoughts. The yellow eyed man told me that I was going to come with him whether I wanted to or not, but it would make it easier if I agreed. He told me that my father hadn't wanted a girl. That my brothers had been jealous. That they had been glad to leave me as soon as they could. That they were all disappointed in me. I tried not to cry or show any fear but I couldn't help it.

I didn't know how long I had been there. I had gone beyond hunger and thirst and needing to use the bathroom. All I had was the horrible shame and hurt I was feeling about all the things he said to me. I _was_ a failure. I _wasn't_ a hunter like Dad wanted; Sam had admitted before to being jealous of me when I was little. I could tell that I bored them when I talked about school or choir. It was _my_ fault that Mom had died. I was probably never going to see them again. I made up my mind that I would agree to whatever he wanted.

But then they didn't come back.

I could hear noises, banging and scraping and people talking in harsh whispers. Footsteps running. I tried to open my eyes but it seemed like too much and I just couldn't do it. I heard a voice saying, "Oh god, oh god, is she-" and felt fingers on my neck, and then I realized it was Dean saying, "Aly? Aly, can you open your eyes?"

With a huge effort I wrenched my eyes open and looked into the clear green eyes of Dean. His eyes were shiny and as he reached up to untie the gag off my head, I saw a tear slip out of the side of his eye.

"We've got you." he whispered. "You're okay, we've got you." He cupped his hands around my face and I winced. He looked like he was ready to burst into tears. "Sammy, you almost done back there?" he said in a hoarse voice.

"Yeah, it's hard, there's blood caked on the ropes." Sam said from behind me.

Dean looked me in the eyes. "Aly, Aly, talk to me, huh? You okay? Stay with me now."

I felt the ropes give way and hands on my arm as Sam brought my arms around to my lap. My arm muscles screamed and I whimpered.

Dean turned to Sam and gestured at me. "Sam, she's not talking. Look at her eyes-" He passed a shaking hand over his face.

Sam leaned down and looked at me. Tears were leaking out of his eyes and dripping off his chin. "Aly, can you hear me?" he said. "Can you say something?" He reached out and took my chin and turned my head gently one way and then the other and winced as he looked at me. The movement made me dizzy and the world started to gray out. The last thing I felt was the sensation of being lifted and feeling my face against flannel.

I woke up hearing talking. "-she woken up yet?"

"No, she was pretty dehydrated when ya brought her in. Once we get some more fluids into her and she rests a while, she'll wake up." I didn't recognise the voice.

"Dad, you didn't see it." I recognised Dean's voice, although it sounded low and rough. "Her eyes, she looked- it was like she wasn't there."

"Well we ain't sure what all they did with her." I realized Bobby was there. "We found some evidence of blood magic rituals and looking at those cuts on her arms I'm guessing it was her blood they used."

"Son of a bitch." Dean swore.

"I need to put this new bag of fluids up" said the voice I didn't know. "I need some hands here."

"I've got it." I heard Sam say.

I felt hands on my arm, lifting it up, and pressure for a moment. I opened my eyes and looked up. There was a tall man I didn't know holding my arm.

"Well howdy little lady' he said. "I'm gonna flush your IV and then start a new bag." There was an IV taped to my arm. I watched as he took out the needle. He picked up a syringe and said something to me but I was focused on my arm- a little bit of blood was leaking out of the tubing and I panicked. I yanked my arm away from him and tried to sit up, screaming, "Don't take my blood!"

Then there were arms around me trying to pin my arms down and Dad was shouting, "Aly, Aly, relax, it's okay, you're safe."

Then there was a pinch in my upper arm and everything got hazy and then went black.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up smelling coffee and hearing murmured conversation. I opened my eyes. Dad was sitting in a chair next to my bed, both of his hands cupped around a steaming mug. He looked exhausted. Sam, Dean, and Bobby were standing together near the foot of the bed, talking quietly.

I tried to sit up a little and Dad noticed. He leaned over and put his mug on the floor.

"Hey, sweetheart." he said, smiling at me so that his dimples showed. He took my hand and kissed it. His hand was warm from the coffee cup.

Sam and Dean turned around and came over to the bed. Dean leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "Glad you're awake, short stuff." he said gruffly.

Sam leaned down and gave me a gentle hug. He smiled at me and said, "Hey, Alybug." I suddenly remembered that he had called me that whan I was very small, but I didn't remember when he had stopped.

Bobby nodded at me and said, "Good to see ya, shorty. I'm gonna go get Calvin." He left the room.

"Who is Calvin?" I asked, and my voice was hoarse.

"He's a hunter who is also a doctor. He takes care of other hunters who get injured. His place is completely protected, so we know that you're going to be safe here." Dad told me.

"My mouth is really dry." I croaked.

"That's probably from the sedative." Dad said.

" I'll go get some water." Sam said, and left.

"Ask Calvin first and make sure that's okay." Dad called after him.

He looked at me and brushed my hair back from my face gently. "You really scared us, Aly."

"I'm sorry, Dad." I looked down at my hands. "I was scared too. I thought I was going to die!" I looked up at him and Dean. " There was a man with yellow eyes who said he knew us. He said his name is Azazel. How does he know you?"

Sam, Bobby, and the tall man from before had come in while I was talking.

"Son of a bitch." Dean said under his breath.

I started crying. "It was really scary. They...they cut me and let my blood drip into a bowl and they were chanting and there were candles and stuff all around. Theier eyes turned black. Why did they do that?" I realized I was shaking.

"All right." The tall man stepped forward. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I need to look you over before you start talking and getting all agitated."

"This is Calvin." Bobby told me. "He'll take good care of you."

"Hey, little lady." Calvin said. "How are you feeling? How's the head?"

"My mouth is dry and I have to pee." I said.

"Well, that means the fluids are going through ya. After I unhook you, you can go. Let me look ya over." He did the standard look into my eyes, nose, and mouth, listened to my chest, had me follow his light with my eyes, and took my blood pressure.

He handed me a cup that Sam was holding. "Here's some ice chips. That'll be a little easier on your stomach than drinking a lot of water right now. Let me unhook your IV and you can go to the bathroom."

I started to feel nervous as he touched my arm. Dad must have noticed, because he touched my shoulder and said, "Aly, look at me. Don't watch him. Breathe, okay?" He held my eyes for a few moments and then Calvin said, "All right, it's out. I think I want to make sure you're able to eat okay before I take the IV out of your arm. We'll get you some soup later. Stand up slow now."

I sat up and swung my feet over the bed. I stood up and took a step and my legs felt weak and I collapsed. Dad stood up and grabbed me around the waist.

"I'll walk you over to the bathroom." He said.

He stopped at the door of the bathroom. "Think you can walk in on your own?"

"Yeah" I said. He let go of my waist and I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I peed for what seemed like an hour, and then stood up and walked over to the sink, which was only a few steps away. I was washing my hands when I heard Dad call, "Everything okay?" I dried my hands off and came out of the bathroom.

"I feel much better." I said.

"Are you able to walk okay?"

"Yeah" I said, but he walked next to me as I walked back over to the bed and sat down.

"Now, listen." Calvin said." I know y'all are anxious to find out what happened, but you need to make sure she doesn't get too upset here. The idea is not to over stress the patient. If she gets too agitated, I'm shutting it down."

I saw Dad and my brothers glance at each other. "All right." said Dad. He sat down in the chair next to the bed again. Dean and Bobby sat on a bench that was on the wall opposite the bed. Sam sat down on the foot of the bed.

"Aly, can ya tell us about the ritual?" Bobby asked.

"I- I don't know." I said. "I can't really remember. I think- I think it was in another language. The first time, I started to say the Exorcism ritual and they got mad."

"Good girl." Dad said under his breath.

"Ms. Smith hit me a couple times and they gagged me after that."

"Ms. Smith?" Dean said. "How did you know her name?"

"She was the substitute music teacher at the elementary school." I told them, and then I blushed, realizing I had just admitted to going to the concert that Dad had forbidden me to go to.

Dad sat back. "She was at the school?" he asked evenly, but I could hear hardness under his voice.

"Yes, when we got there Ms. Brown was upset that there was a sub, because she didnt know what was going on." I swallowed and looked down at my hands. I started to fold the blanket on my lap.

I took a deep breath and looked up at Dad. "Dad, I'm sorry, I forged your signature on the permission slip so I could go to the concert." He was giving me the Winchester Glare, so I dropped my eyes and stared at my hands again.

"I know" he told me tightly. "The school called me and once I talked to your music teacher, we figured it out."

"Man, Aly, you have some balls, forging Dad's signature." Dean said. "I don't think Sam or I ever pulled a stunt like that."

"Dean." Dad said. "We'll- discuss- that later."

I looked at him. "The kind of discussion that involves your hand and my butt?" I asked nervously.

"Among other things." he said. "Later."

My eyes filled with tears. "I really fucked up, okay? I know I did. The guy with yellow eyes said that he _was_ at the slumber party, and I didn't tell you guys about that, and I keep dreaming about him, and then I forged your signature and went to the concert, and then I got kidnapped by him...it's all my fault."

"Wait, you keep dreaming about him? When?" Sam asked.

"A couple times, just that he was there looking at me or something."

"And you didn't think to mention this to any of us?" Dad's voice was loud and stern.

"I'm sorry-" I started, but Dad over-rode me.

"I keep hearing that you're sorry but I don't think you're really getting it. This is like a repeat of when you were younger, you're all impulse and no thinking. Do we _really_ have to go down that road again?"

"Ya know, I can't help but think that if you had told her about things to start that maybe this wouldn't have happened. She needs to know about what's after her so that she can be prepared. That's part of the reason this happened." Bobby said. "I know ya want to keep her safe but it's backfiring on you."

"What do you mean, what's after me?" I asked, getting scared.

"They were demons, Alyson." Dad said. "Azazel is the demon that killed your mother."

Terror welled up in me. The idea that I had been in the same room as the demon that had killed my mother, and that he had taken my blood, and said all those horrible things to me, was horrifying. He had known things about me, he had gotten into my head. And the worst part of it all was that in the end I had been ready to say I would go with him.

I burst into tears and curled up in a ball on the bed.

I heard Calvin say, "All right, I think that's enough talk for today."

I felt a hand on my back and Dad said, "Aly? Come here, sweetheart." I felt his hand on my arm, trying to pull me into a sitting position.

"Leave me alone." I said, crying harder. " I couldn't even hold my own against a demon."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I looked up at him for a moment. "He wanted me to come with him. He told me how things really are. I know how you really feel about me. I'm a failure! I was going to go with him! You should have just left me there to die!"

I felt hands on me and Dad was lifting me up and sitting on the bed with me in his lap. He put his arms around me and tried to soothe me.

"Aly, it's all right, you need to calm down. We can talk about this later, right now you need to breathe. You're safe now, it's all right." Dad stroked my hair back from my face.

I couldn't calm down. I couldn't catch my breath. I started to panic. I cried even harder. I heard voices talking but I couldn't understand them. Then someone took my arm and I felt a pinch in my upper arm and then gradually everything went black.

I woke up feeling someone tugging on my arm. Calvin was standing over me. The room was mostly dark.

"Hey, little lady." he said. "I'm changing your fluids. I'd like you to try and eat something today, then we can get this line out of your arm. How does that sound?"

"Okay." I said."What time is it?"

"It's almost 7 AM. You slept through the night."

He hooked the tubing back up to my arm and then threw away the trash and came over and sat in the chair next to the bed.

"Bobby's made some of his chicken soup." he told me. "I'll get ya some of that in a little while if you're hungry."

"Yeah, he makes good soup." I said.

I looked at Calvin and he was studying me. "What?" I asked him.

"Why were you saying that you're a failure?" he asked.

I stared down at my hands. "Because I'm not a hunter like my brothers. I tried to be, Dad tried to train me when I was younger, and it just didn't work. I wasn't good at anything. Sam lets me help him with research a little bit, but that's all."

"So you ain't good at bein' a hunter like your Dad and brothers, why does that make you a failure?"

"Because...because I know Dad wanted me to be one too." I started pleating the blanket.

"Did he ever _say_ that he thought you were a failure?"

"Well, no, but there were times when he'd be trying to teach me something, and I would suck at it, and he would look all disappointed. And that would make me feel like crap."

"But the whole failure thing is something you put on yourself. I'm sure that he's proud of you, whatever you've chosen to do with your life."

"When he notices me." I said bitterly. "He's so busy with hunting most of the time that he barely knows what's going on with me any more. No, scratch that, I'm not even sure he cares about anything except hunting that stupid demon. I'm tired of getting left behind all the time. And now I've gone and screwed up his hunt because I disobeyed him and ended up getting kidnapped and all."

Calvin leaned forward and looked at me. "Alyson, I _know_ that yor Dad loves you and is deeply worried about you. Don't ever doubt his love for you. He isn't good at showing emotions, but he's never done anything that he's done because he doesn't care about you."

The door opened and Dean came in, carrying a mug of coffee and another cup. He held up the cup." I brought some ice chips for Aly." he said.

Calvin stood up. "You want to try some soup now, or wait a while?"

"I'll try some now." I said.

"All right, I'll go heat some up." he started to leave the room.

"Calvin?"

"Yeah?" he stopped and turned.

"Thanks for talking to me." I said. He smiled at me and pretended to tip a hat.

Dean walked over to me and put the coffee on the small tray table next to the bed, then he leaned down and hugged me. He handed me the cup of ice.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. "You're looking better."

"I feel a little better. " I ate some of the ice chips. "I can't wait to eat real food and get up out of this bed. When can I go back to school?"

"Uhh..."Dean said hesitantly.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

He looked uncomfortable. "Aly, we had to pack up and move away."

"What?" I was stunned. "Why?"

"Well, uh, after it became apparent that you had been taken, the school called the police. And then they got involved, and we had to do some fancy footwork with Bobby to get them off of our tails. There was no way you could go back to that school after all that."

'But- but I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to anyone! What about choir?" Tears came to my eyes. "That's SO not fair!" I put my hands over my face.

I felt Dean put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Aly. Sometimes that's the way it is when you're in this life, sometimes you just have to pack up and go."

"WELL THAT SUCKS!" I shouted. "I HATE THIS!"

The door opened again and Calvin came in followed by Dad. They both looked worried.

"What's all the shouting?" Dad asked.

"I just told Aly that we had to move away from her school." Dean told him, looking uncomfortable again.

"Dammit, Dean, I thought I said we were going to wait to talk about that with her!" Dad snapped.

"I'm sorry, Dad. She asked when she could go back to school and I wasn't sure what to say." Dean shifted and looked down at the floor.

Calvin stepped forward. "Let's let that go for now. I want Aly to eat and see how her stomach does, and if she's all upset it's not gonna help things." He had a bowl of soup in his hands. He put it on the tray table and moved it over to the bed. I sipped the soup and it made me feel hungry, so I started eating it.

"John, why don't you go get some coffee." Calvin told Dad. Dad hesitated. He came over to me and kissed the top of my head. "Are you okay?" he asked, cupping my face with his hand.

"No." I said grumpily.

Dad sighed. "I'll be back in a few and we can talk." he left the room.

"How's your stomach doing?" Calvin asked me.

"I'm still hungry." I said.

"Let me see if I've got anything like jello that I can rustle up." He followed after Dad.

Dean sat down on the bed next to me and put his arm around me.

"Sorry Dad yelled at you." I said to him. I leaned my head on him.

"Well, it's my own damn fault." he said. "I shouldn't have said anything to you about it." He turned his head and looked at me. "What in the world gave you the idea to forge Dad's signature? Geez, that's something that I would have done!"

"I really wanted to go to the concert." I said. "I didn't think that I could end up getting kidnapped or anything."

"Yeah, but the fact that you still thought you could get away with it..."

"I wasn't thinking that way, I jut wanted to go sing."

"You were being impulsive. Like you always are."

"Dean, leave me alone!" I pushed at him, tears coming to my eyes again.

The door opened and Dad and Calvin came in.

"What's wrong?" Dad asked, looking at my face and seeing I was upset.

"Dean's giving me grief." I said.

"I'm not trying to." he said. "But your impulsivity has always gotten you in trouble."

Dad looked at me. "This is a big deal, Aly." he said sternly. "And you're going to have to face the consequences of your actions."

"I suck, okay, I already know that." I said bitterly.

Dad grabbed my chin with his hand, hard, and made me look at him. "STOP. THAT." he said in a hard voice. "I don't want to hear you talking about yourself like that again."

Sam came in the room quickly just then. "Guys, Bobby thinks he's found something. We need to go check it out."

Dean and Dad followed Sam out. Calvin came over to give me two containers of jello.

"Let me know how ya do with these. I have a feeling we're going to be moving you out of here today into your own room."

I ate the jello and sat in the room by myself. A short time later I heard voices in the hallway.

Dad and my brothers came into the room.

"We've got a lead on the demons." Dad said. "We're going to go check it out with Bobby. Sam's going to stay here with you." He leaned down and hugged me and kissed my forehead. "Be good."

Dean came over and hugged me. "Love ya, short stuff." He said, which really surprised me, because he isn't big on saying that. It worried me.

"Is this safe?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it, Aly." Dean said.

"Please be careful!" I said. "I don't want anything to happen to you!" I got scared and started to cry. Sam sat down next to me and put his arms around me. "It'll be okay, Aly. Dad and Dean and Bobby all know what they're doing."

Dad and Dean left and Sam rubbed my back until I stopped crying.

"Aly, we were talking, and I think I'm going to start homeschooling you."

"What? Why?"

"well, it's not exactly safe out there for you right now."

"What do you mean?"

"The demon is going to be looking for you" he said. "And we can't take any chances."

"You mean you can't take any chances that I'm going to do somethig stupid and impulsive and get myself kidnapped again." I said bitterly.

"Aly, we just want to keep you safe." Sam said. "I've been looking up different programs online and there's a couple I want to show you later today. Calvin said you're probably going to be moved out of here today, so after we get you settled in your room, we can look at stuff."

Calvin deemed me okay to get out of the hospital bed, so while he took out my IV, Sam got me some clothes. He came in and handed me a bundle. I got dressed in the bathroom and then he walked next to me while we followed Calvin to the room that I was going to be staying in.

Calvin's house was huge. He called it "the compound". I had been staying in the medical wing, which was connected to the house by the kitchen. There was a huge library with one wall that was full of bulletin boards for pinning stuff onto. There was a wing of the house with bedrooms too. I had a small room at the end of the hall, next to Sam.


	7. Chapter 7

**Content Warning: This chapter contains parental spanking of a minor. Don't like it, don't read it.**

 **Trigger Warning: This chapter contains a description of self injury (cutting). Please use caution if this is a trigger for you.**

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

In the afternoon, I sat with Sam in the library and we started looking at different homeschooling programs that were for sale online. He showed me the ones he liked and some other options. There were so many to choose from, it was hard to pick.

"There's some online tests that I want you to take, to see what grade level you're actually at right now. I know your reading has always been above grade level. You can tailor the homeschooling programs to the person's levels rather than going by what the curriculum says they should be doing." he told me.

"I have to take tests?" I complained.

Sam gave me a look. " _Yes_ , Aly. I want to get this off the ground as soon as possible. I don't want your schooling to lapse because of this."

"Great, now _you're_ going to be a hardass." I said, rolling my eyes.

"About this, _yes_. You know how important I think education is. I'm not going to let things slide with you." He typed something into the computer and then clicked on a link.

"Here's one of the tests. It's for Language Arts, which will test your knowledge of grammar and vocabulary and all that. You should have no trouble with it at all." He slid the laptop over in front of me.

"Saaaaamm, I have to do this _right now_?"

"No time like the present." he said. "Come on, Aly. Let's get the ball rolling."

I sighed and tried to give him the Winchester Glare, but it didn't phase him one bit. He left me alone at the table so I could concentrate.

Three hours later, I had taken tests for Language Arts, Social Studies, and was almost finished with a Science test, when Calvin came into the library. He was talking on a cell phone. He walked over to the large desk in the corner of the room where there were 3 different computers.

"Hey, Sam." he said. "Fire up that computer on the end, we've gotta look something up for Bobby." Sam walked over to the desk and sat down. Calvin put Bobby on speakerphone and they both listened to what he was saying.

"Aly-" Calvin said to me. "Did they take anything else from you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Like hair, or fingernail clippings, or anything?"

"No, I don't think so." I said. "Just blood."

Calvin took the phone off speaker and put it up to his ear and continued talking to Bobby.

"Sam, I'm finished with this test." I said.

"Enter it into the website and I'll look at the score in a little while." he said.

"Can I take a break now? I've been taking tests for like 3 hours."

"All right." he said absently, staring at the computer in front of him. "We'll do the rest tomorrow."

SPN SPN SPN SPN

The next day I took more tests on the computer, and Sam and I got into an argument about languages. He wanted me to continue with Latin and I wanted to take French or German. I was tired of sitting in front of a computer and tired of taking tests. I wasn't looking forward to starting homeschooling either. All in all, I was pretty grumpy by the time that Dad and Dean and Bobby came home. After I had hugged them all, Calvin brought a bottle of whiskey into the library and some glasses.

"Aly, we need to discuss what we found with Calvin, so you need to go to your room for a while." Dad said.

"Can I be done with testing for the day, Sam?" I asked, and he told me yes.

"If ya want to go into the livingroom, there's a whole shelf full of DVDs if ya want to watch something." Calvin told me.

I went into the living room and looked at his DVD collection. It was huge. I didn't really feel like watching another screen though. I looked out the window. It was sunny out and very bright. I realized I hadn't been outside in days. I went to the front door and opened it. I stood on the front porch and breathed in the air. The sun felt good on my skin. I walked down the porch steps and stood in the sunlight.  
"ALYSON ELISABETH WINCHESTER, GET YOUR ASS IN THE HOUSE!" Dad bellowed from the front door. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I hurried up the steps.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

He grabbed my arm and landed three hard swats on my butt.

"What's wrong is that I have a daughter who continues to defy me and do whatever the hell she wants without thinking of the repercussions or consequences!" He yelled at me.

"What do you mean? I didn't know I couldn't go outside!" I protested. "OW!" I exclaimed as he swatted me again.

"We explained to you that the demons are looking for you and that that's why we're staying here, because Calvin's place is protected." He pushed me toward the porch railing.

"Dad, I'm sorry-" I started,

" _Don't_ say you're sorry again. I'm tired of hearing it." He said in a hard voice. He grabbed the back of my shirt and bent me forward over the railing.

"Dad, what are you doing? Let go!" I cried out, trying to stand up straight. I turned my head to look back at him and saw he was unbuckling his belt. He grabbed the back of my jeans and yanked me up and pushed me forward over the railing. I had to grab ahold of the slats in the railing to keep from falling. My feet dangled off the ground. He began yelling, lecturing me,

"You disobeyed a _direct order_!" He brought the belt down and I shrieked and burst into tears from the sharp sting of it. His hand on my lower back held me in place.

"Your impulsivity set in motion a whole chain of events that led to you being in _danger_! _Serious_ danger, young lady!" Another stripe of pain bloomed right under the first one as the belt came down again.

"You have _no_ idea just how irresponsible and foolish you were by forging my signature! You could have _died_! " Two more blows, one right after the other, right below the last one.

"Daddy-" I sobbed.

"You need to _grow up_ and stop acting like you are child with no impulse control! You need to _think_ about your actions beforehand instead of just doing something without thinking! And all the 'I'm sorry's in the world aren't going to matter until I see a _change_ in your behavior!" The belt came down harder, punctuating each sentence, and then I heard Dean shout, 'Dad, STOP!"

Dad let go of me and I felt someone else taking hold of me and helping me stand up. It was Sam. He put his arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.

"I'm _not_ going to lose her like I lost Mary!" Dad yelled. "And if I that means I have to beat her ass every day for a month to get her to change her behavior, then I will!"

Dean was holding on to Dad's arms. He took the belt out of Dad's hand and dropped it on the floor.

Calvin stepped forward, and his face looked angry. "We're going to make sure nothin' happens to her, John." he said tightly. "I know you said she needs to face the consequences of what she did at school, but whippin' her ass is just too damn harsh right now. She's only just gotten up out of that hospital bed. You want to lose her? Keep up with that." He gestured at me.

"Dad, we'll find him and gank him." Dean said reassuringly.

"I can't let it happen again." Dad said. "Losing Mary almost destroyed me, and if he got her too..."

I heard a sound I'd never heard before, and that was of Dad, sobbing.

Dean took his arm and led him over to Sam and me, and all 4 of us put our arms around each other and held each other, crying.

Dad started talking. "I'm so afraid of losing you, I'm sorry, Aly, I was out of line, my default reaction to everything is to get angry. I just want to protect you and I fall back on my military mindset when I'm stressed. I'm sorry." He pulled me into his arms and gave me one of his bear hugs.

"Dad, I knew after I did it that I was going to get in trouble for forging your signature." I said. "I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway, and I'm sorry."

"We'll deal with all that later." he said. "The important thing right now is keeping you safe."

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The next morning I woke up after everyone else. They were all in the kitchen, drinking coffee and talking. Dad was making omlettes for everyone. He walked over to me and hugged me.

"Good morning, sweetie" he said. "Do you want one?"

"No thanks, I'm not really hungry." I said.

He looked at me. "You sure ? You barely ate anything last night at dinner. You should eat something."

"I'll make myself some toast." I told him.

"No, go sit down. I'll make it for you." he said, making a shooing motion with the spatula in his hand. Dean brought over a glass of orange juice and set it in front of me.

"Thanks" I said. He squeezed my shoulder and sat down next to me.

"Sam told me you two have been looking at home schooling stuff and you've been taking tests." Dad said to me from the stove.

"Yeah." I said glumly.

"What's the matter, don't you want to do that?" Dad asked. "I thought you'd enjoy being taught by Sam."

"I think she's worried about Sammy not going easy on her like he usually does. He's not going to let her get away with anything, am I right, Sam?" Dean said.

"I'm going to make sure the work gets done." Sam said.

"Show me which programs you're thinking of later today." Dad said to Sam. "And then we can order them so you can get started."

"I think Aly should continue with Latin." Sam told Dad. "I forgot to mention that last night."

"Aww, Sam, do we have to start talking about school stuff again?" I groaned.

He shot me a look." Yes, we do, because that's what your life should be right now, studying and schoolwork."

"I think that sounds fine." Dad said.

"I don't want to keep studying Latin, I want to learn French or German." I said.

"Why not both?" Bobby asked. "Shorty, I think you should keep up the Latin, 'cause you're probably the best at translating we got here. I was surprised at how quick ya caught on to it when your Dad started teaching you."

"I don't want to overload her on subjects." Sam said.

"Yeah, but you're not letting me pick anything!" I protested. "Can't we just try it for a while?"

"I guess so" he said. "We can see how you do with it."

Dad brought over a plate of toast for me and set it down in front of me. "You sure you don't want anything else? Scrambled eggs or sausage?"

"No, I'm fine." I said, trying not to sound grumpy.

"We need to convene in the library after we're finished eating." Bobby said. "Start looking for omens again, see if we can figure out where they went."

"Sounds like a plan." Calvin said.

"Can I help?" I asked. Sam and Dean and Bobby glanced at each other.

"It's mostly just going to be looking for events in local papers and trying to find patterns." Sam said. "I think Aly could do that."

"All right, but if it gets to be too much, take a break." Dad said.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

We were all looking at computer screens and making notes. I had been finding reports of cattle mutilations in a town about 50 miles from where we were. I was writing down the dates of the reports and the descriptions of what was done to each- heart missing, body drained of blood, internal organs left beside the body. One of the reports was from a tabloid type paper that had lurid full color photos of one of the cases. The blood in the photo stood out in direct contrast to the cow's white fur and the green grass underneath it.

All of a sudden I got a flash of the ritual in my head. I heard the chanting buzzing in my ears and felt the fear and then saw the knife come flashing down-

"Aly?" Dean asked. "What's up?" He was sitting next to me. I looked around. They were all looking at me.

"What?" I said.

"You gasped." Dean said. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I sat up and stretched. "I think I need a break. Can somebody take me outside? I'd like to go for a walk or something."

"I'll have to check the perimeter of the yard, make sure the markers are in place." Calvin said.

"Not right now, Aly. We've all got to work on this." Dad told me. "If you need a break, take one, why don't you go take a nap."

"I don't need a nap, I'm not 3 years old!" I snapped.

Dad glared at me. "Excuse me? You need to watch your tone." he said sternly.

"Sorry," I said, feeling guilty. "I just feel out of sorts today."

"Come here." Dad told me.

I got up and walked over to him. He put his hand on my forehead and looked at me. "Do you feel like you're getting sick?"

I shook my head. "No, just...off."

He pulled me to him and hugged me. "Take a break. Go find a movie to watch or something. Calvin, if she's still not feeling well by tonight, would you mind looking her over?"

"I think that's a good idea." he said.

I went to my room and laid down. The images of the cows kept flashing in my head along with different images from when I was kidnapped. I couldn't make them stop, and as I started to feel the terror that I had felt before, I panicked. I curled up in a ball and wrapped my arms around myself.

"Aly." Someone said. "Aly!"

I opened my eyes. Sam was standing above me, looking worried. He put his hand on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"No, Sam, I keep—seeing it-it's like I'm there again and I think I'm going to die-" I gasped out.

He sat down on the bed and pulled me gently into a sitting position.

"Aly, look at me." he said softly. "Look at me and focus. You're safe now, you're just remembering what happened. Can I touch you?"

I nodded, and he put his hands on my shoulders. "Take a deep breath. You're almost hyperventilating. Breathe slow with me. Feel my hands on your shoudlers. You're safe, Aly, nothing bad is happening right now."

I breathed slowly with him and looked at him looking earnestly into my eyes and felt his hands on my shoulders. Gradually the images faded from my mind. I started crying and leaned my head on his chest and he hugged me.

"You're okay" he said. "You're safe, I've got you."

After I had stopped crying, he leaned back and looked at me. "What do you think brought that on?" he asked. "Have you had that happen before?"

I shook my head.

"Are you sure?" he looked closer at me. "Aly, _please_ make sure you tell us if anything like this happens again, or of you're having nightmares or anything. We need to know what's going on with you."

"Okay." I said.

"I know you want to help, but maybe you shouldn't be looking stuff up like you were today. Maybe those photos triggered something." Sam said.

"But Sam, helping out makes me feel useful." I wiped my face with my shirt.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. He took my hand.

"Because I'm not a hunter, and I can't help you avenge Mom! This is the only way I can help!"

"Aly, no one expects you to avenge Mom." he said quietly.

"Well that seems to be _your_ life purpose! And Dad and Dean's! And what am I supposed to do, just sit here and do nothing and be left behind _again_?" I pulled my hand away from him and pulled my knees in front of me and wrapped my arms around my knees.

"Aly, your life has a purpose." he said.

"Yeah, right." I scoffed.

"You're young, you just haven't found it yet."

I glared at him. "By the time you and Dean were my age, you had _both_ been hunting with Dad for at least a couple years! What good am I if I can't follow in your footsteps?"

"Aly, _don't_ say that." Sam said in a hard voice. " It's different with you."

"Yeah, because I'm a failure!"

He sat up straight and gave me the sternest Winchester Glare I had ever seen on his face.

"STOP with that!" he said angrily. "You are _not_ a failure, and _no one_ has ever said that!"

"You don't have to! " I snapped. "You all said it in your actions, always leaving me behind! You didn't want me around!"

"Aly, _where_ are you getting this from? This is- this is _insane_!"

"Oh, so now you're calling me crazy?" I shouted, sitting up. I pushed at him. "Just go away, Sam! Leave me alone!"

"Alyson-"

"GO! AWAY!" I shouted, in a fury.

He let out a deep breath and bit his lip, then he stood up and left the room.

Our argument brought back all the things that Azazel had said to me. It brought back the fear and the negative feelings. It brought back the shame I had felt about deciding to say I would go with him. I laid on my bed and the memories and feelings slowly turned over and over in my head, like a thick stew slowly coming to a boil.

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Dean knocked on my door and peered in. "Are you okay? You've been in here all afternoon. Sam said you and him had a little arguement."

"Yeah." I sat up and looked at him. "You here to tell me how wrong I am too?"

He gave me a funny look. "No, I'm here to tell you that dinner's ready. And after dinner, we're going to sit down and watch a couple of the Terminator movies."

"Oh joy, guy flicks with lots of guns and explosions." I said sarcastically, getting up from the bed.

"I'll let you have my popcorn, how's that?' He put his arm around me and gave me a brief hug.

At dinner I tried to avoid Sam as much as possible. I stared at my plate and didn't talk much, or eat much. I just wasn't hungry.

"Alyson, are you feeling better?" Dad asked.

I shrugged. "I've had a headache for a while and I'm not really hungry." I said.

"Let me give you a once over after dinner, little lady." Calvin said.

"Okay."

Sam was standing at the sink washing dishes when I took my plate over. He put his hand on my arm.

"Aly." he said. "I'm sorry if anything I said was out of line. I didn't mean to upset you." He looked at me with his puppy-dog eyes and I could see he was really upset.

"It's okay, Sam." I said. I put my arms around him and we hugged.

Calvin looked in my eyes, ears, and mouth, listened to my heart, and took my blood pressure, and said everything was fine. "Probably just need more sleep. Are you sleeping okay?"

"Yeah, I guess." I said.

"Let me know if you start having any nightmares or anything."

We went into the living room where they were getting ready to start the movies. Bobby and Dad had made popcorn and they all had beer and a bunch of shotglasses ready on the table.

I watched most of the first movie with them and got bored and tired. I told them I was going to bed and hugged and kissed everyone. Dad stopped me when I pulled away from him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. He looked closely at me.

"I'm tired." I said, shrugging.

I laid in bed and tried to sleep and everything that had happened today just kept playing over and over in my mind. I felt a pressure in my head again and it was like my pulse was pounding in my ears. I felt woozy. I don't know if I had actually fallen asleep or not, but then I found myself in the bathroom.

I found a small pair of scissors in the bathroom cabinet and cut the bandages off my arms. Both arms had blue sutures in the cuts and they were scabbed over and partially healed in some places. I used the tip of the scissors to cut each suture and pulled them out of my skin. It felt weird. Some of the scabs came off with the stitches. The wounds started to bleed a little bit. I scratched the scabs off with my fingernails, but that didn't make them bleed enough. I stood up and turned the water on in the tub, making sure it was warm. As the tub filled, I used to sharp point of the scissors to reopen the cuts on my arms until the blood was running down my arms. Then I got into the tub and turned off the water. I laid down in the water and gasped as the water made my wounds sting. The last thing I remembered was watching the blood curling in the water as it pumped out of my body and thinking it looked pretty.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

I woke up in that hospital bed again. My arms were bandaged with thick white gauze. Dad, Sam, and Dean were standing near the door, talking in low voices. I tried to sit up and find the remote control to move the head of the bed. They noticed and turned toward me. They all looked at me for a long moment. I couldn't really tell how any of them were feeling.

Sam rushed up to me. I thought he was going to lean down and hug me, but instead he grabbed my shoulders and shook them.

"Goddammit, Aly, what the hell were you thinking?" he shouted angrily. "How could you do that? Why didn't you talk to me before you...I've always told you can talk to me about anything, and I thought we had a better relationship than you just-" He let go of my shoulders and gestured at my arms. He was crying and I could see hurt and anger on his face.

"Why didn't you talk to me?" he repeated.

"Sam, I'm sorry-" I started, but he interrupted me. "SORRY?! YOU'RE SORRY? YOU ALMOST DIED, ALYSON!" And he sobbed once and then turned and ran out of the room.

I burst into tears. Dad and Dean came over to me. Dad leaned down and hugged me and Dean walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down and hugged me from the other side.

Calvin walked in. "Bobby's gone after Sam." he said. "Little lady's awake now?"

"I'm sorry." I sobbed. "I didn't...I didn't know...I mean, it was like...it wasn't me, I mean it was, I've been feeling shitty, but I almost couldn't feel it and it was like I wasn't controlling my hands..."

Dad and Dean both let go of me and drew back to stare at me. "What?"

"It almost seemed like I wasn't in control, that my hands were doing it, but it wasn't me."

Dad looked at Calvin. "What do you think?" he asked. "Missouri, or someone else?"

"We're going to Missouri?" I asked.

"No, Missouri is a person." Dean told me. "You think she's be able to tell what's going on?"

"Yeah, I think this could possibly be demonic influences. I'd say go call her, see if she'll make a special trip." Calvin said.

"Why is Sam mad at me?" I asked, starting to cry again.

"People deal with being upset in different ways. And he feels guilty because y'all had an arguement yesterday. He'll come around." Calvin reassured me.

Dad stood up. "I have to go make a phone call, I'll be back in a few minutes. Dean, keep an eye on Aly." He bent and kissed the top of my head, then left the room.

Dean took one of my hands. "You know, Aly, I think you gave all of us at least a couple gray hairs." he said.

"I'm sorry." I said again. "Please don't yell at me too."

He squeezed my hand. "I'm not going to."

I looked at Calvin. "What did Sam mean, I almost died?"

Calvin cleared his throat. "We're not sure how long you were in there, but, uh, the cuts were pretty deep and you had lost a fair amount of blood. You weren't at the point of going into shock or needing a transfusion, but it was not good. It took a while to get ya stabilized because you woke up and fought us."

"I did?"

"Yeah, it was pretty intense." Dean said.

"I don't remember any of it." I told them. "What happened?'

'"You were't really saying anything, you just kept trying to pull away from everyone and it was hard enough holding on to you because you were bleeding and wet from the tub."

"Oh yuck." I said.

Dad came back in to the room, putting his cell phone in his pocket.

"She'll be here in two days." he said.

"Who is she?" I asked.

"Her name is Missouri Mosely and she's a psychic. She's helped us on cases before."

"How is she going to help me?" I asked.

"She can—read- people as well as places, and she'll be able to help us figure out what's going on with you." Calvin said.

Dad came over to me and put his hand on my chin and made me look at him. "Alyson, I want you to be completely honest with me. Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"Uh—I don't- I mean, I didn't plan it or anything, I just—my head had been feeling funny ever since that morning, when I was looking at the news articles."

"Sam told us you had had some problems that afternoon. It sounds like you had a flashback." Calvin looked at me closely.

"Why didn't you come and tell us?" Dad said. "We need to know theses things."

"I don't know, I was feeling odd all day. And like I said, when I was- cutting myself— it almost seemed like I wasn't in control of things."

Calvin looked at Dad. "I think that for now, we're going to have to have a round-the-clock watch on her."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Someone's going to have to keep an eye on you at all times, because we don't know what could happen. If what happened was caused by something that they implanted in your mind during the ritual, then we don't know what else is in there."

"I agree with you, Calvin. "Dad said. "We'll have to figure out a schedule between all of us."


	8. Chapter 8

The door opened and Sam came in, his head down. He walked over to Dad and asked quietly, "Can I talk to you?"

Dad glanced at me and said, "Of course, Sammy." They went out into the hallway for a few minutes. They came back in and Dad said, "Could everyone excuse us?"

Dean and Calvin left, and Sam came over to the bed and stood in front of me. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Alyson." He said slowly. "I need to know...did you...do what you did, in any part, because of the things I said to you earlier in the day?" He glanced up at me, very quickly, and I could see that his eyes looked scared.

"No, Sam." I said. "I was half asleep when I went into the bathroom, and I didn't even feel like I was in control of things all the way." I held my arms up to him. "Please don't be mad at me any more, Sammy." I said. "I hate it when you're mad at me." Tears came to my eyes, and he came over to me and bent down and hugged me.

"I'm not mad at you." he said into my shoulder."You scared the shit out of me is all." He pulled back and put his hand on my cheek. "Don't do that again, okay?"

"We're going to make sure nothing like that happens." Dad said. "Calvin suggested that we watch her round the clock for now."

When Calvin said I needed to be watched around the clock, he wasn't kidding. He let me move back into the room I had been sleeping in, instead of staying in the room in the medical wing, but not until they had gone through everything in there to make sure nothing like knives were hidden anywhere. The bathroom cabinet and closet were cleared out of anything potentially dangerous. I couldn't be alone in the kitchen or help with cooking or cleaning. Someone was with me at all times. And I couldn't help them with research any more. I was getting bored and grumpy.

The next day, all the homeschool materials that Sam had ordered came in the mail. He had ordered some books for me too, so at least I had some books to keep me occupied now. He spent most of the day organizing everything, and then in the evening, he sat me down to show me.

"The way I want to start this is, I'll give you your assignments for the day, and you do them when you feel up to it and take breaks when you need it.I'm not going to stand over you and make sure you do the work, because I know Calvin said you're still going to need to rest sometimes. I'll check on things at the end of the day and make sure everything is done, and if there's anything that's wrong or you're having problems with, we can go over it then. Although you can come to me for help at any time." He leaned forward and looked me in the eyes. "Okay? At _any_ time" he repeated. "I don't want you doing that thing where you hide having a problem with something."

"Okay, Sam." I said.

He sat back and his eyes bored into me. "And Aly? If you lie to me, about anything, I _will_ spank you. That goes for cheating too."

"O-okay-" I sad nervously.

"You know how Dad feels about lying. I feel the same way too, even moreso about education. And I can _always_ tell when you're lying."

"You can?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, you've never been a very good liar, ever since you were little. And if things don't work out this way, we can change the way we do it. I'm flexible."

"What about sick days? Snow days? Time off for good behavior?" I asked teasingly.

"Uh, I don't think so. If I get sick, I'll just give the work to Dean or Dad and then you'll have them to deal with instead of me." He looked at me. "Aren't you looking forward to this even a little bit?"

"I guess." I said reluctantly. I was a little nervous about if this would change our relationship at all. I didn't want to lose the closeness that we had just because he was going to become my teacher.

The next morning, Sam and I sat down at a desk in the corner of the library. Even though the guys were still looking stuff up, the room was big enough that I could do my work without being disturbed or seeing anything potentially bothersome on a computer screen. And they could also keep an eye on me.

We went over what he wanted to do for Math- which was Algebra, yuck- English, which was reading a Jane Austen novel, and Social Studies. He said we would start science later. He gave me the paperwork he wanted me to do and told me he would check on me before we ate dinner. That meant I had the whole day to do the assigments at my leisure.

Early in the afternoon, Missouri Mosely arrived. We stood in the entrance way as she came in.

Calvin stepped forward and they hugged. "It's been a while, Missouri." He said to her. She put her hand on his cheek."Yes, it has." she said to him, and a look passed between them.

She looked at Bobby. "Bobby." she said. He gave her a hug and she said, "You're going to make me some of your chili, aren't you?"

"Been on the stove since yesterday, ma'am." Bobby told her. "And I made a pot of spicy just for you. You gonna make your jambalaya while you're here?"

"I think I could arrange for that." she said, smiling.

Dad stepped over to her. "Thank you so much for coming." he said.

"John Winchester, you just keep getting more handsome with age. Look at the white in that beard." she said, and they hugged.

"This is my daughter, Aly." he introduced. She held out her arms to me. I stepped into them and it was like being hugged by a soft wall of flowers. She smelled like vanilla, and also a garden, natural and flowery, but it wans't overpowering. She pulled back from me and looked in my eyes.

"I can feel that you're troubled, child, but I promise you we'll get to the bottom of this." She smiled kindly at me and then turned her attention to Sam and Dean.

"Staying out of trouble, you two?" she asked them as they leaned in to hug her. "Especially you?" she asked Dean pointedly, and he straightened up quickly.

"Yes Ma''am" they both said. They were acting a little bit like nervous little boys. It was kindof funny.

Calvin got her settled in a room and they all hung out in the kitchen for a while, drinking coffee and catching up on things. Missouri was very self- assured and quick- witted, and didn't hesitate to call someone out on something.

Finally she looked at me. "Let's get started." she said. "Miss Aly, where do you want to talk? Do you want to go to the room I'm in? I've got all my supplies in there."

"Sure." I said.

"Calvin, I'm going to need some candles." she told him. I followed them to Missouri's room, after giving Dad and my brothers hugs. I was nervous.

I sat down in the armchair in the corner of the room and watched as she unpacked a bag and took out containers of dried herbs. She lit the candles and placed them around the room, and then took out a small bundle of what looked like dried twigs. She lit it from one of the candles and then blew the flame out. A musky smelling smoke began to fill the room.

"This is sage." she said. "I'm going to smudge the room and both of us. It's supposed to purify the area and also our auras."

She walked around the room with the sage, waving it in the air, and then waved it over me and herself. She put the sage down in a dish and then sat on the bed.

"Come sit with me, honey." she said, holding out her hands.

Missouri sat across from me, and held both of my hands in hers as I talked. I told her about everything, how I had tried to learn how to be a hunter, but I just could never succeed at any of it, and it made me feel like a failure. I told her about school and singing and how I kept getting in trouble because of my impulsiveness. I told her how I had felt left out by my father and brothers, how they had left me with people over and over again to go hunting. I told her about the slumber party and the kidnapping. I cried a lot and she cried with me. She hugged me and rubbed my back. And then she told me she was going to look into my mind to see what she could see. She smudged us both again and lit a couple more candles and sprinkled some herbs over the flame of one of them. Then she sat down in front of me and told me to bow my head and close my eyes and relax. I did so, and she put her hands on my head. She told me to take deep breaths and relax. I could smell the tangy scent of the dried herbs she had used and the woodsy sage still in the air. I listened to her breathing as it slowed. My head felt funny.

"Relax, darlin'.'" she said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just looking around, to see if they put anything in here that's not supposed to be here." I felt a little bit of pressure in my head and she reminded me to keep breathing slowly. Then the feeling in the room began to change. I felt warmer and warmer, like I was wrapped in a soft blanket. In my mind, a face began to take shape. Blonde hair, green eyes, a bright smile. I felt comfort and a peace I don't think I had ever felt before. All the anxiety about everything floated away. All the worry about what I was to my family, about what was going to happen, left me, and I was left with a feeling of peacefulness and happiness. I could see the woman in my mind's eye, smiling at me, and I knew that I was getting the peace from her. I wanted to reach out to her, but she faded from my view.

I became aware that tears were sliding down my face again. Missouri let go of me and sat back. Tears were on her face as well.

"Oh, honey, I think you just accessed your mother." she told me with a warm smile. "Part of her is inside you, in your memories and your spirit, and you just reached deep inside yourself and touched her."

"I felt like I was wrapped in a blanket and very comfortable and peaceful. I could see her." I told her.

"That may have been a very early memory of being held by her. I know they say that we can't remember our infancy, but I've known people who have remembered that time in their life. You kept that memory in you to help keep you safe."

"That was really her?" I asked. "Do you think so? Nobody ever talks about her...I don't know very much about her and there aren't any pictures out. It's always been really hard for Dad to deal with."

"I know, darlin'. It devastated him. But he's got to let some of that go so he can share some more of her with you. You need it, especially right now."

"Now, I need some time to meditate on the things I've discovered. You should go and rest too. We'll talk about everything tonight." She told me. I walked out to the library and told them what she had said, and Dean said he would come and stay with me while I rested. I didn't think I would be able to sleep, but all of a sudden, he was shaking my shoulder and telling me it was time for dinner.

Bobby had made rice and cornbread to go with the chili and we had a good time at dinner. Missouri was a natural born story-teller, and she had us all laughing at funny things that had happened in her life.

After we ate, we went into the library and sat down. I felt nervous. She lit some candles and sprinkled some dried herbs in the flame again.

"Now, some of this may be difficult to hear, but you need to remember that we all need to work together to help this child. She's been through some difficult circumstances, some of which has been her fault, and some of which has been completely out of her control." She paced back and forth a couple times.

Then she stopped in front of Dad and turned to him.

"John Winchester, you ought to be ashamed of yourself." Missouri said.

"Excuse me?" Dad said, looking confused.

She gestured at me. "You've known since she was a tiny little thing that she was more sensitive than her brothers, and yet you continued to try and fit her into that same hunter's mold you put them in. All children are different and you can't make them all be the same way. You put the expectation of her being a hunter on this child, but when she showed you that it wasn't in her, you didn't give her anything else to replace it with. Which has made her get this fool idea in her head that she's a failure. If you keep on like this you're going to lose her, not physically, but in here." She touched her heart. "You've known that she doesn't respond well to your military routine yet you kept doing it because it was the easy road for you and you were too tired from all your hunting to put effort into anything else. I know hunting is important to you, but the heart and soul of your little girl should be more important than that. A little girl needs her Daddy. She's close with her brothers and they helped raise her, but she needs _you_ , John." She looked at him for a long moment, and then paced back and forth once.

"Now, those demons put things in her head, but most of it was already there. They took those feelings of failure and being left behind and amplified them with that ritual. Thier dark magic has become entwined with her thoughts in her mind, and they need to be untangled."

"How can we do that?" Sam asked.

"We're going to have to find something to break that spell." Missouri said. "It may be difficult because they were doing blood magic, but I have faith that all of you wil be able to reach out to your people and hopefully find something we can use. I'll be looking too. But until we find what we need, she's going to need to be watched. I'm sorry, honey." she said to me. "I know you feel like all these men are breathing down your neck right now, but that demon did this to you to make you destroy yourself, and we can't let that happen."

She walked up to Dad and held out her hands. He took them and stood up, and then she turned to me and held out her hand. I walked over and stood next to her. She made me face Dad and take his hand.

"John, this child needs more from you now than she ever did before. You're going to have to share some of your wife with her, because she needs that as well. She's got some inside her, but she needs it from you. You're going to need to reach past all the hurt and pain and share with her to give her strength. Do you think you can do that?"

I saw Dad's eyes were shining with tears. He glanced at me and nodded, clearing his throat.

She put her hand on his cheek for a moment. "You also need to heal this rift between the two of you, and if you share some of your wife, that will help with that. It's not always going to be easy, but I know how strong you are, and this child has your strength too." She smiled at me and let go of our hands and made us take each other's hands. "I want to see the two of you spending time together every day. You _make time_ , John."

"I will." Dad said in a hoarse voice, and he took me in his arms and hugged me in one of his bear hugs, and we stood like that for a while.

Now that they knew what to look for, everyone started to work with renewed purpose. In the morning, Calvin took Missouri shopping for ingredients to make jambalaya. When they got back I stayed in the kitchen while they were prepping everything. I sat at the table, away from the knives, and listened to her explaining how to make the jambalaya. After it was started, she sat at the table with me and we talked about cooking for a long time.

In the late afternoon, Sam found me and beckoned me to come with him. I followed him to my bedroom. He pulled the chair out from my desk and put it near the bed and sat down in it.

"Sit down." he pointed at my bed. I sat down, feeling a nervous pang in my stomach. I had basically forgot about my school work.

"I checked your work again and you didn't do didn't you do your assignments?" Sam asked me. He was serious but didn't seem angry.

"It's just hard to, I don't know, get back into the swing of things. And Missouri is here right now." I said. "Can't you give me a break?"

"No, I don't think I can." He said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. "I don't want to set a precedent of you slacking off and me getting after you all the time. I give you the work and I expect you to do it. I already told you I wasn't going to hover. You need to take some responsibility."

"I knew you were going to be a hardass about this." I muttered.

He leaned forward and grabbed my chin, making me look at him. "Alyson, that's enough." he said firmly. "No more swearing. It's rude and disrespectful and I won't tolerate it. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sam." I said, and he let go of me and sat back. He looked at me for a long moment, like he was thinking about something.

"Now, I asked you about this yesterday and you told me basically the same thing. That's two days in a row you haven't done the work I've given you."

"I'm having trouble getting motivated!" I protested.

He sat up straight suddenly, and then reached for my wrist and pulled me over to him. When he started to pull me down over his knees, I realized what he was doing.

"Sam!" I protested. "You said you would spank me if I lied to you! I didn't lie!" I tried to pull away from him.

"Consider this a way to jump start your motivation." he said, pushing me down over his lap.

"Hey, I'm injured!" I exclaimed.

"You're not that injured." he told me, and put his arm across my back.

I fought him, but I'm barely 5 foot even and he's 6 foot 4", and much stronger than me, so I was no match for him. And his hands are, as always, hard, and huge. He easily held me down and started spanking me. After just a couple swats my bottom was already stinging.

"Sam! I'm sorry! I'll do the work!" I told him quickly.

"Yes, you will." he agreed, bringing his hand down again.

"OW! I said I was sorry!" I tried to get up, but he tightened his grip on me.

"Oh, so you think saying you're sorry will end your spanking? You don't get to decide when it's over." he told me sternly, and he started again. My bottom was burning by now. I told myself that I wasn't going to give in and cry, but Sam and his huge paw had other ideas. My eyes were already tearing up.

"I expect you to work with me." he said after he had swatted me a couple more times.

"You need to take this seriously and treat this like your regular schoolwork. Nobody had to get after you for that. I expect you to give your homeschooling- and me- the same amount of respect that you gave your teachers and your work." Again his hand fell a few times, harder this time.

"Okaaay, Sam! OW!" I realized I was whining.

"And if you can't, or won't do the work and be respectful, then things are going to go very differently. And you won't like how it goes." Another set of hard swats fell. I whimpered even though I tried not to and the tears started falling. "I wanted to do this with you because I know how smart you are and I know you can do really well. But if you continue making excuses, I'm going to be very disappointed."

The realization that Sam thought I could do well at this and the thought that he was going to be disappointed in me made me realize I need to be serious. I didn't want to disappoint him most of all. That made me cry harder.

"I'm really sorry, Sam." I sobbed. "I mean it."

He swatted me a few more times. "I want to see you start to take this seriously. Is that clear?" he asked.

"Yes sir." I sniffled.

He pulled me up to sit on his lap and held me. I threw my arms around him and cried into his shoulder.

"I don't like spanking you, Aly, but I will if I have to. Don't make me do this again."

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in." Sam called.

It was Dad. "I was just checking on Aly." He said after he came into the room. "Is everything okay?" he asked, after seeing the tears on my face.

"Yeah." Sam said. "She needed a little hand-to-butt motivation for her schoolwork."

"Oh?" Dad raised his eyebrows. "You've only just started, and she's already gotten into trouble? Aly, what's going on?"

"I just need to get into the swing of things, with remembering to do the work and all." I said, feeling embarrassed.

"I'm going to sit with you while you do the work for now, until you get used to it." Sam said.

"Dean and I can help with that too." Dad told him. "And if she's still not doing the work, then she and I will have to have a talk."

"Dad, we agreed that I would handle her home schooling." Sam said.

"I know that, Sam. But I'm still her father, and if she's not doing what she's supposed to be doing, then I need to get after her for it too. If she was going to school that's the way it would be. So if that means she gets in trouble twice, then that's going to be the way it is."

"My butt is not going to be happy about that." I muttered.

"Well, if you do what you're supposed to do, your butt won't have anything to worry about, now will it?" Sam asked me.

I sighed. "You're right, Sam."

"That's right, I'm right. And don't you forget it." He teased, tickling me.

"It's almost time for dinner." Dad said. "Let's go help set the table."


	9. Chapter 9

I was in the library sitting in front of one of the computers, trying not to bring any attention to myself.

Sam walked in and said, "Calvin's making lunch..." He continued over to me, a frown forming on his face, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm taking a break," I said.

He folded his arms and glared down at me. "You're not supposed to be on the computer, especially if no one is here to watch you."

"I can't even play a game?" I groused.

"No." he said. "How much school work have you done?" He walked over to the desk where my books were and looked through the papers. "Aly, you've barely done anything! What is going on with you?"

"I told you, I'm taking a break!" I snapped, "I'm tired."

"Then maybe you need to go to bed earlier!" He gave me a look. "Let's go eat lunch, and then you need to get back to work."

I stood up with a huff and followed him out to the kitchen.

Missouri had left a couple days ago and then the day after that, Dad and Bobby. They were following different leads to see if they could find any spells or rituals that would help me out. That left Calvin and my brothers watching me. They had decided that Sam would be with me during the day so that he could keep an eye on my schoolowork, and Dean would watch me at night. Calvin would switch off to give them breaks and all I wanted was some peace; I was chafing to be left alone.

Despite all those times I had sat around feeling sorry for myself, fearful that I would never see them again when Dad and my brothers went on weekend hunts, recent events had made me long for some time to myself. I was tired of someone always looking over my shoulder especially as Sam was constantly after me about schoolwork now. I was frustrated and angry.

After lunch, I helped Calvin wash the dishes. "Can I help you make dinner?" I asked him.

"We'll see." he said.

I went back to the library with Sam and he motioned me over to the desk. "Get some assignments done this afternoon." he said. "I'm going to be right here." He pointed to one of the computers and sat down.

"Great, just what I need, you hanging over my shoulder," I muttered petulantly under my breath.

"What?" Sam looked up.

"Nothing!" I said quickly. After a moment, I looked over at him. He was watching me.

"Alyson, you need to step it up," he said sternly. "No more slacking off and no more snide little comments. I mean it."

"Okay, Sam. Sorry," I sighed.

I finished both my science and math work and then read a couple of chapters of the book, 'Emma' by Jane Austen. By then it was close to dinner and about fifteen minutes later, Dean came shuffling in looking tired. He walked over to me, yawning.

"Hey, short stuff." he said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head.

"Hey, Dean." I said, hugging him loosely.

"You getting your school work done?"

"Yeah." I sighed and sat up. "Sam, can I be done for the day?"

He stood up and came over to me. "Let's see what you got finished."

I handed him the papers I had completed.

"I read two chapters of 'Emma' too." I told him. "Can we watch the movie version tonight?"

"That's up to Dean. I'm probably going to be going to bed early." Sam said.

"Can we, Dean?" I tried giving him 'puppy dog eyes'.

He sighed. "Is it a chick flick?"

"Well, yes, but it's got Gwyneth Paltrow in it. And there's lots of exposed cleavage, because of the style of dress that was popular back then."

"Hmm…" Dean smirked, "I guess I could give it a try."

We sat down to eat. Dean brought two bottles of beer over for himself and Sam. They popped the tops off and took a few sips.

"Can I have some?" I asked.

"No!" they both said at the same time. It drove me crazy when they did their 'Winchesters-in-stereo' thing.

"Come on, guys?" I pleaded. "Can't I at Ieast try it?"

"No." Dean said, giving me the look. "Don't even think about sneaking it just 'cause Dad's not here either," he said.

"You're no fun." I said, folding my arms.

"Don't pout at me," Dean said. "It's never worked on me and you know it."

"It's not a good idea with everything that's been going on with you." Calvin told me. "Not to mention you're underage."

"And Dad would blister your ass if he caught you." Dean said. "Hell, I'd blister your ass."

Sam and I did the kitchen cleanup after dinner and then after much pleading on my part, he joined the rest of us when we sat down to watch the movie. Dean made snarky comments at first, but by the end of the movie, all three of them were into it.

"See?" I said. "Chick flicks aren't bad. Wasn't that a satisfying ending?"

"Sure, I guess." Dean said. "I did like all the boobs."

"You're impossible!" I said, and I tried to tickle his side.

"Oh no you don't, little girl!" he said. "I'm bigger and stronger than you!" he grabbed me and started to tickle me. He held my arm up and called to Sam," Hey Sam, free tickles!"

Sam leaned over and started tickling me too and before long I was shrieking with laughter so hard that I could barely catch my breath.

Calvin watched us, smiling. "You two always tag team her like that?"

"Pretty much." Dean said. "We're just trying to fulfil our brotherly duties. Being obnoxious is our specialty."

"You're right. You've always done that very well." I said, and Dean grabbed my foot and tickled it.

It was the last time we had fun for a while. Things got ugly after that.

I woke up in the middle of the night, scared and agitated. I had had a nightmare about when I had been taken. Dean was sitting in the armchair in my room, and he had fallen asleep. I had an overwhelming need to find out more about the demon who had snatched me. I thought that maybe if I were the one doing the research, I might find something that the guys hadn't. I was the one that had been kidnapped and tortured, wasn't I?

I quietly walked downstairs to the library and turned on one of the computers. I sat down and mostly looked stuff up in many of the Hunters' forums that I had seen Sam use for the better part of an hour. There really wasn't much on there that the guys and Dad hadn't already discovered and subsequently discarded, so it was with a very defeated sigh, that I shut everything off and went back to bed.

Dean woke up as I tried to close my bedroom door quietly. He looked at me blinking, his face soft with sleep.

"I had to go to the bathroom." I quickly lied, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Let me know next time," he said thickly. I rushed over to the bed and laid down and tried to sleep. The few promising sites I had encountered on incantations and different rituals, had been interesting but weren't very specific to my circumstance. Some of the words went around and around in my head though and I had trouble falling asleep again, my mind racing.

In the morning I was grumpy because of the insomnia. Dean went straight to bed after he ate breakfast.

"I've got to make a supply run," Calvin told Sam and me. "What kinda stuff do y'all want for meals?"

We talked about food for the next several minutes and I asked. "Calvin, can I go with you?"

He shook his head. "Absolutely not, little lady. Too dangerous."

"Please, I've got to get out of this house!"

"I'll take ya outside when I get back, all right?"

"You need to get started on your schoolwork, anyway." Sam reminded me.

"Aw, Sam!" I whined.

"What is up with you?" he gave yet another one of his looks. "Are you four years old all of a sudden? I haven't heard you whine this much in a long time!"

"That's just rude!" I grumped at him.

We walked into the library and Sam gave me my assignments for the day. I started to work on social studies, which thank goodness, was just reading three chapters.

"Aly," Sam said after a few minutes. "Come over here."

I got up and walked over to him, holding my book in my hand, a finger holding my place.

"What is this?" he turned from the computer and looked over at me. He had pulled up the browser history and there it was, the full list of all the websites I had visited last night.

"What the hell, Aly?" he was angry. "We've told you repeatedly not to get on the computer, and you go ahead and do it anyway? Was Dean asleep?"

"Uh, yeah." I blushed.

"Dammit!" He snapped and then sighed, getting a hold of himself. "I don't get you, " he started in a more reasonable tone, "Are you trying to get in trouble?"

"No, I just don't like being so restricted!"

"Well, your behavior is only going to get you more restrictions!" he said, and his voice was loud again. He turned around fully in his chair and glared at me.

"And you sneaking around in the middle of the night is tantamount to lying, young lady! What did I tell you about that!"

I backed away from him.

"Sam, you were talking about schoolwork," I said quickly. "Weren't you?'

He narrowed his eyes and sighed again. "I'll ask Dean's opinion, but I think I know what he's going to say. In the meantime you're going to write me lines. 'I will not get on the computer without asking', 100 times."

"Sam!" I protested.

"I don't want to hear it," he shook his head. "You brought this on yourself. Go sit down and get started."

I walked over to my desk, sighing.

"And if you don't get everything done by dinnertime, you and I are going to have issues." he told me sternly.

Dean came into the library in the late afternoon again, raking his fingers through his short hair while yawning. Clearly he had just woken up and was ready for his nightly babysitting duties. I pouted at his advancing figure as I massaged my hand. It was hurting because I'd been writing those stupid lines for the past hour. I was almost done all one hundred, thank goodness!

"Dean, come here." Sam motioned to him. He was still at the computer. Dean walked over to him, leaned down, and looked at the monitor. They started talking quietly but I heard my name mentioned at least twice. Uh oh.

I saw Dean straighten up out of the corner of my eye and look over at me. I glanced at him and he was glaring at me. I swallowed nervously and then turned back to my paper. I picked up my pen and started writing again.

"Alyson, get your ass over here." Dean said after a minute. I got up and walked over to them, still holding my pen. I fiddled with it nervously as I stood there.

Sam turned around in his chair again and Dean crossed his arms over his chest. He pointed at the computer screen, which once again had the browser history up.

"Explain yourself, little girl." Dean said in a hard voice.

"Uh-" I started. I didn't know what to say.

"I am about 2 seconds away from hauling you over my knees, so start talking!" he snapped.

"Um, I wanted to try to find some information about the demon. I thought that maybe if I looked up stuff myself, I'd find something different...you know, fresh eyes and all?"

He looked at me closely. "You expect me to believe that shit? How do we know that you're not still under demonic influence and looking up ways to summon him here?""

I hadn't even thought of that. "No, Dean, it's not...I mean, it was me." I finished lamely, realizing I had just admitted to sneaking down here and disobeying them about the computer for a second time in one day!

Dean raised an eyebrow at me, his stance becoming even more intimidating.

"And Aly, I believe that what I said was, 'If you lie to me about anything…" Sam said. "Do you remember?"

I squirmed. "Yes" I said. "But I didn't lie!"

"Technicalities." Dean said. "How about this? You disobeyed a direct order. From Dad. What does he do when that happens?"

"Uh, a spanking." I looked down at my feet.

"The only question is, who's going to do it, Sam, or me?" Dean looked at Sam, and then back at me. "I guess it should be me since you did it on my watch."

"Aren't you going to get in any sort of trouble for falling asleep when you were supposed to be watching me?" I snapped.

Dean turned and looked at Sam, and his mouth dropped open. He was dumbfounded. "Are you hearing this?"

He turned to me again. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, little girl." he said angrily. "Should I put a lock on the door to keep you in your room? Because obviously you have _no_ self-control and need to be watched every second! You've been told _repeatedly_ to stay off the computers. Maybe we should just lock you in the panic room."

"What's that?"

"It's a room with nothing in it except a bed, for people who are possessed or having other issues. It locks from the outside."

"No, it sounds awful." I said.

"Are you done with your lines?" Sam interrupted, just as I was about to start pleading my case against imprisonment in said panic room.

"Uh, I have like 8 left to go." I said. "My hand hurts." I whined.

Sam looked at me. "Bring me your work." he said. "Dean, you might as well deal with her, I have the feeling that I'm going to end up doing something about her schoolwork later."

I swallowed thickly and walked back over to the desk, found the work I had done, and carried it over to Sam.

"Can I finish my lines while you're checking it over?" I asked.

"Go ahead," he said absently, looking over my papers. He got up and walked over to a different desk where he had the teachers' versions of the home-schooling books. He sat down and started to flip through one of them, taking the cap off a red pen as he did so. Oh crap! The dreaded red pen that teachers used during grading to highlight students' mistakes.

It only took a few more minutes to finish the rest of the stupid lines. I put the pen down, wriggling my fingers to ease the cramping and took them over to Sam.

"Here," I said. "All 100 sentences."

He took the papers from me and put them on the desk. He was too focused on the book he was holding to even spare a glance at them or me.

"You're not even going to look at them?" I asked him.

He looked at me. "After dinner. You and me. In here for a discussion about your work." he said, and his voice was hard. He looked back down at the book he held.

I swallowed, my mouth going dry. "Sam-" I started.

He looked up at me again, and his jaw twitched in agitation. " _No_ , Aly. After dinner."

I turned and started to walk back over to my desk. Dean, who had been oddly quiet this whole time, followed me and took my arm.

"Bedroom," he said simply, pulling me behind him for a few steps. He dropped my arm once it was apparent that I was obeying.

"Dean, I'm sorry." I said. "I won't do it again."

He glanced at me as we walked through the hall. "You shouldn't have done it in the first place." he said. "What has gotten into you?"

We went into my room and he closed the door after me. He took my wrist and led me over to the end of the bed, but I stopped him when he started to sit down.

"Dean, please-" I said.

"What? You want to discuss this? How about I call Dad, and see what he has to say about it. You _know_ what he would say, and what he would do if he were here. And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

He sat down on the end of the bed and pulled me down over his lap and the spanking started. "We're trying to keep you safe." he said, as he brought his hard hand down over and over. "The rules are there for a reason. And you know better than to disobey a direct order."

"I'm sorry!" I whimpered, and started crying right away. As spankings went, this wasn't that harsh, but I felt like I didn't even have the will or the strength to struggle and kick like I usually did. I just laid there and cried.

After several more hard swats, Dean stopped. He pulled me up onto his lap, and leaned his head down so that our foreheads were touching. He looked into my eyes as he spoke.

"All I want to do is keep you safe. Work with me and Sammy, okay? Don't make this harder on any of us."

"Okay Dean," I sobbed, and he pulled me into a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder. He rubbed my back until I had calmed.

"If you start having any bad dreams, or anything like that, you tell one of us," he said firmly. "I _mean_ it, Aly. We need to know what's going on with you."

"I will." I sniffled.

Sam knocked on the door to let us know that it was time to eat. I stopped off at the bathroom and washed my face before I went to the table.

Sam was quiet during the meal and barely even looked at me.

My stomach twisted nervously because I knew he was upset with me and I couldn't eat much.

When we'd all finished, Sam looked at me. "Come with me." he said ominously.

I followed him into the library, where he had laid out all the work I had done that day. The papers were marked all over with red pen. He stood by the desk and looked down at me.

"You weren't even trying. This is _not_ your best work. Hell, it's not even _good_ work." he scolded, and I could tell he was pissed. "I was watching you while you were supposedly studying, and you kept staring into space and just sitting for long periods of time playing with your pen. Maybe I need to sit right next to you and monitor you that way to keep you focused."

"No way!" I protested. Having him sitting there breathing down my neck would make me feel even more crazy.

He took my arm and laid a hard swat on my butt.

"Ow!" I whined.

Then he turned me to face him. He held my shoulders and bent down so we were looking in each other's eyes; his eyes were dark and serious.

"I'm giving you _one last chance_ to start making an effort." he said. "I don't want to see any more day dreaming and I don't want you giving me poorly done work. And No. More. Lying. Is that clear, Alyson?" He let go of my shoulders.

"Yes" I said, looking down, unable to withstand his intense, penetrating gaze.

He stood up and pointed to the papers on the desk. "Tomorrow, you and I are going to go through those and you're going to correct all the mistakes. And that's on top of the other work I give you."

I groaned, and he held up his hand. "No complaining. You did this to yourself."

"Are you- are you mad at me?" I asked hesitantly.

He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. "More like frustrated. And disappointed. You can do much better than this."

The realization that Sam was disappointed in me hurt, and I started crying. He put his arms around me me and rubbed my back as I cried into his flannel.

"I'm sorry, Sam." I said when I had calmed down. "I'll do better, I swear."

"I hope so." he said.

 **Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long to update...things are about to get intense with Aly, and it's been hard to write. My muse would rather be writing about babysitting and Wee!chesters right now...but this story does need to be told too!**

 **A huge THANK YOU to delacre, who has become my beta/proofreader/co-pilot/advisor...you are awesome! And a shout out to happygoddess2003 also, for all the advice and encouragement and allowing me to bounce ideas off of you, you rock!**

 **And THANK YOU to all of you who have reviewed and followed me, it means a lot!**


	10. Chapter 10

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Lots of angst in this chapter and the next couple...thanks again to delacre for all the help and edits...and thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing!**

I woke up with a start in the middle of the night, again. Dean was sitting in the armchair watching his laptop by my bedside table. He had earbuds in his ears and when I rolled over, he looked at me and pulled them out.

"Aly? You okay?" he asked.

He pushed the table out of the way, and came over to the bed and sat down. "Were you having a nightmare?"

"I guess so," I lied. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to tell him that I'd been dreaming about my kidnapping again. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. "I don't remember anything."

He looked at me for a long while then he said,." Well…okay, tell me if you do."

I sat up. "I need to go to the bathroom," I told him.

He stood up and went back to the chair. "Okay" he said. He pulled the table back towards him, put his earbuds in and started watching whatever he was watching.

I used the bathroom, got into bed and then laid there trying to sleep. It took me a long time before I nodded off and in the morning when I woke up, my head felt groggy and I had a headache.

I noticed that Dean's armchair was empty and the laptop was gone. Glancing over at my alarm clock I realised that my brothers had let me sleep in later than usual. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, quickly becoming aware that my head was pounding. My eyes watering with the pain, I slowly made my way to the kitchen where I could hear voices.

Dean was saying, "This sucks, man, being stuck here day after day playing house. We better hear back from somebody soon, or I'm gonna start climbing the walls. I just want to be out on the road hunting again, tracking down and ganking that son of a bitch!"

Hearing him say that hurt my feelings. A lot. I had always felt that my family didn't like having to take care of me; that my brothers resented being left with me while Dad went off to do the 'family business.' And since they had found out about the demon, all three of them were obsessed with finding him and killing him.

Sam and Dean had always reassured me that my feelings of abandonment were ludicrous and that I was their little sister whom they loved more than anything in the world. There was absolutely nothing and no one that could change that. But now, having Dean, my protector and father figure, voice his true feelings cut me deeply. Knowing that I was actually the burden I thought myself to be and that all his platitudes and reassurances were lies..

"Sam, remember when we went with Dad and Bobby and were hunting that-"

I couldn't listen to anymore. I shook my head, as if doing so would erase those painful words and walked into the kitchen. The conversation stopped immediately and all three of them turned towards me.

"Mornin', little lady," Calvin said. "Sleep well?"

"Actually, no," I said, quietly, refusing to make eye contact with any of them. "I kept waking up all night."

"Any nightmares?" he asked.

"I can't remember." I said, walking over and sitting down at the table.

"Get some breakfast and then let's get started," Sam said, "We've got a lot of ground to cover."

"Sam, can't you give me a break today?" I groaned, "I have a headache."

"I can get ya something for that," Calvin piped in, "and then you should be good to go."

"Great!' I muttered sarcastically, pouring some cereal in a bowl and then reaching for the milk.

"Oh, come on, Aly! You and Sammy, doing algebra and giggling like little girls over books about the architecture of the monasteries of the Himalayas or the economic crisis in the South during the Civil War? You two ought to be in nerd heaven!" Dean teased.

Sam and I both glared at Dean.

"Though it would be _better_ if someone wasn't constantly riding my ass…..!" I muttered unapologetically, loud enough for all of them to hear.

"It would be _better_ if someone wasn't constantly being lazy and spending all her time daydreaming!" Sam retorted. "I can't _believe_ you're trying to start something this early in the morning!" He looked annoyed.

"Stand down, you two." Calvin said with a placating tone. "Aly, let's get some food in your belly and some medicine for your headache. That'll help your mood."

Dean stood up. "I'm going to bed. You two behave yourselves, or it'll be ass beatings all around when I get up this evening." He leaned over and dropped a kiss on the top of my head which I subtly tried to avoid, then left the room.

There was also a mound of bacon on the table which I snacked on while Calvin made me a couple of sunny side up eggs to go with my cereal. He brought me a glass of orange juice and some ibuprofen, both of which I downed gratefully without complaint.

Sam took his plate over to the sink and washed the dirty dishes that were already piled high there."Aly, clean up after yourself when you're done." He told me, turning around to look at me while drying his hands off on a dishtowel.

With Dean gone, I directed all my ire and hurt at Sam. "Okay, okay, geez!" I snapped. "If all you're going to do is boss me around, maybe I should go back to bed and get out of your way!"

Sam glared at me. "Knock it off, Aly and quit complaining so much. I'll be in the library waiting for you." he walked out.

I looked down at my plate and took a deep breath, willing the now-forming tears not to fall.

Calvin put his hand on mine. "I know this is tough for you." he said sympathetically. "If we don't hear back about anything today, we should call your Dad and the others and check in."

"Okay" I said. "Thanks for putting up with us. I'm sure we're not much fun to be around right now."

"I've had possessed people in my panic room and hunters who were on a 5 day bender, Aly, this is nothing. You'll get through this."

When I was finished, I cleaned up like Sam said and then went into the library, dreading having to face those papers with all the red marks on them.

Sam was sitting at one of the computers. "Ready?" he asked, getting up and coming over to me. I sat down at my desk. "As I'll ever be," I sighed. He sat down next to me and squeezed my shoulder. "You should be able to breeze through these corrections. Most of them were because of dumb mistakes on your part."

"Dumb mistakes?" I bristled at the perceived insult. Dean's earlier words came back to me in full force now, fuelling my anger, "Are you saying I'm dumb now?"

"No, Aly, God! Would you rather I said they were lazy mistakes?"

"Why not? You've already called me lazy once today!" I shouted. "Why don't you tell me how you really feel!" Then I put my hand up to my head and groaned.

"What's wrong?" he was instantly concerned.

"I still have a headache!" I whined.

"All right." he said soothingly. "Let's find something easy to work on now. Would reading make it worse, do you think?"

"Let's just do this." I muttered waspishly, picking up one of the papers and a pen.

Sam looked uncertain initially, but when I refused to engage him any further and just kept staring doggedly at my math homework, he sighed loudly and sat next to me. For the next couple of hours we worked on the stuff from yesterday until all the corrections were done.

"How's your head?" Sam asked me when he finally decided we could use a break.

"Still hurts," I muttered, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead.

He stood up. "I'm going to go make you some strong coffee. The caffeine helps with headaches sometimes. Be back in a couple minutes. Take a break."

He hadn't even been gone for 30 seconds when I found myself drawn to the computer like a moth to a flame. I knew in the back of my mind that this was a bad idea, because Sam was going to be back very shortly, but I couldn't help myself.

As I heard his returning footsteps, I closed the browser window and stood up, intending on hurrying back to my desk, but then he was there in the doorway. He saw me and his face got angry. He walked over to me, put the mug of coffee down, and then grabbed my shoulders and shook me.

"Do I have to attach a leash to you and take you with me everywhere I go? God, you're acting worse than when you were a little kid! You used to listen to me better back then!"

"Sam!" I protested, half angry, half fearful, "I'm not a dog!"

"Well I'm running out of ideas here, Aly. You're showing us again and again that you can't be trusted. What is it that you want? What are you trying to prove by acting this way?"

"I- I dont know." I said hesitantly, because I really didn't know. Fear and anxiety were winning out over anger now because Sam was getting madder than I had seen him in a long time, and 'Pissed-Off Sam' was not someone you wanted to be around for very long. Sam knew he had a temper and he was usually good about keeping it in check, but all my self-doubt and worry were making me reckless and I kept pushing him, and he was feeling it.

"Do you like constantly being in trouble? Do you want us to give you a bunch of rules like you had when you were a kid? Because that's where this is headed."

"No, I don't!" I protested.

He pointed at me. "You wouldn't be acting this way if Dad were here. You need to show us the same respect you show him. Maybe Dean and I _should_ beat your ass a couple times, so that you'll start doing that."

He loomed over me threateningly. "Is that it? Should we start giving you a bedtime spanking every night for a few days?"

"No, Sam!" I tried to sound reasonable, because I _really_ didn't like the direction this was going. "I just don't feel well today and I'm tired. I'm sorry! Let's just get the work done."

He stood there and looked at me until I was squirming under the scrutiny and then he sighed. "All right." He picked up the mug and handed it to me. "I put milk and sugar in it, because I know you're not used to drinking coffee. This should make it palatable for you."

I took the mug and sipped the coffee. "This is really good!" I said. "Thanks, Sam!"

We went back to the desk and sat down and he gave me my assignments for the day.

"Now, do you think you can work on these yourself, or do you need me to stay here and help you focus?"

"I can do it." I said.

"Well...okay..." he said skeptically. "I'm going to be watching, and if you start drifting off, I'm going to bring you back to earth. Let me know how your head is doing too."

He got up and walked over to the computer again.

I was able to finish my social studies work and the science assignment he had given me, but I got hung up on the math. Math had never been my strong suit, and trying to work on the algebra was making my head hurt even worse.

"Aly," Sam called to me. "What's going on over there? You're just staring into space."

I sighed. "Sorry, I'm trying to do this algebra, and it's making my head hurt again."

"It's almost time for lunch, let's take a break." he said. He came over to me as I stood up and put his arm around my shoulder for a hug. "You worked really hard this morning, I'm proud of you." he said, as we walked to the kitchen.

Calvin gave me some more medicine with lunch, but my head was still hurting, and I wasn't really hungry.

"Go lay down for a while." Calvin said. "You may just need some extra sleep."

"You can finish your work with Dean tonight." Sam said.

"Oh joy!" I said. That could go one of two ways; he could be a hardass about it or he could cut me some slack. When I was little, Dean was always the one who would sneak me a chocolate bar or let me stay up late in the summertime when Dad wasn't home as much. Of course, he was also the one who was ridiculously overprotective and handed out the majority of the punishments in Dad's absence.

"I'll be up in a few." Sam said.

"I'm just going to be napping, you know."

"I'm still going to watch you, Aly. Keeping you safe, remember?"

Despite having had all the caffeine, I still managed to fall asleep for almost three hours.

I opened my eyes and rolled over. Sam was sitting in the armchair, leafing through a book. There was a stack of large, ancient-looking hardcover books on the floor next to him.

He saw me and asked, "How's your head?"

"Better," I said, though I was feeling groggy again. "How long did I sleep?"

He looked at the watch on his wrist. "About 2 hours and 40 minutes. Maybe we should ask Calvin to give you something to help you sleep tonight." he said.

I stretched and yawned a few times.

Sam moved the book off his lap and said "Come here,'" to me. I walked over to him and he sat me on his lap and put his arms around me. "I'm sorry I got upset with you earlier. I don't want you to start associating doing schoolwork with us bickering all the time."

"I was cranky too." I said. "I'm sorry, Sam." I put my arms around him and we hugged each other for a while. "Did Dad or Bobby call yet?"

"Nope. Calvin suggested we call them tonight. I think we should."

I leaned over and looked at the books next to the chair. "What are those?"

"Some of Calvin's books. Old spellbooks and stuff."

"Can I look at them?" I asked.

"Probably not a good idea. Some of them have illustrations that are a little, um, intense. If you hadn't already been having nightmares, you'd get them from looking at some of those books!"

"Okay" I said dejectedly. "I just want to help. I really want to feel useful and not…" I stopped myself, getting up and tried to change the subject. "It must be close to dinner. I'm going to go ask Calvin if he needs any help in the kitchen."

I was out the door before he could reply, but I heard him follow me out to the library.

Dean's phone rang while we were eating dinner. He glanced at us and then left the table, walking into the library and closing the door behind him. Sam waited a moment or two, then he got up and followed Dean.

Several minutes went by while I finished my meal. I took my plate over to the sink and washed it, then started cleaning up the pots and pans. My brothers came back into the kitchen and Sam walked over to me, handing me the phone. "Dad wants to talk to you."

I dried my hands off on a towel and took it. "Hi Dad!" I said brightly.

"What's this I hear about you getting on the computer in the middle of the night? And you're giving Sam a bunch of grief about doing your school work? You'd better adjust your attitude if you know what's good for you, or the boys will do it for you!"

"Dad-" I started.

"You are _not_ allowed to be anywhere near those computers, do you hear me, Alyson?" His voice was stern and deep with anger.

"Yes sir." I said.

"And I told Sam that he needs to stop putting up with so much crap from you. He's always let you get away with too much, and this behavior needs to stop _now_. If I hear that things haven't changed, you and I are going to be having a _long_ talk the next time I see you. Understand?"

"Yes sir." I said again. "Dad-"

"Let me talk to Dean." he said abruptly. I walked over and shoved the phone at Dean. He and Sam were sitting at the table finishing their food.

"Hey. Yeah, tomorrow. Yeah. I'll let you know. We'll see you. Bye." he hung up and put his phone on the table.

I put my hands on my hips. "I can't believe you guys _told_ on me!" I yelled. "I haven't heard from Dad in days, and all he did was yell at me! He wouldn't even let me try to explain anything!"

"He's a little drunk, couldn't you hear it in his voice? You know how he gets, his inner drill sergeant comes out." Dean said.

"Well I'm not one of his Goddamn recruits!" I turned to Sam. "You tell me to respect you like I respect Dad, and then you go and tell on me like I'm a little kid again!"

"I didn't tell on you, Aly." Sam said. "But he has a right to know what's going on. That's what I told him. Your behavior has been ridiculous in the last few days."

"This is bullshit!" I snapped, picking up one of their glasses and hurling it at the wall behind them. I stormed out of the room, not even looking back to see their reactions.

"Aly!" I heard Dean shout after me."Alyson!" I heard his footsteps following me and I hurried up the stairs to my room, slamming and locking the door just as he got there. He banged on it loudly.

"Alyson Elisabeth Winchester, unlock this damn door." he yelled. "I will go get the lockpick if I have to, and then you're going to be very sorry, little girl." his voice got deeper in anger. He banged on the door again. "Last chance, Aly!"

I unlocked the door and opened it, and then ran to my bed and curled up in a ball.

Dean walked to the foot of my bed, and crossed his arms. His green eyes were shining with increasing intensity. "You need to listen to me." he said, with barely contained anger. "I've been going easy on you because Calvin said that we should, but I think the time for easy is over. You're just acting up too damn much. We're going to leave tomorrow, and I'm not going to put up with any of this crap while we're on the road."

"We're leaving tomorrow?" I sat up, feeling happy and relieved.

"Tomorrow or the day after that. If you had let me _talk_ instead of jumping all over us and storming out of there, I would have told you. Bobby thinks he's found something, and we're going to meet him and Dad at Bobby's house."

I was excited. "We get to leave! I get to be outside! Yay!" I clapped my hands.

"Don't go getting too excited. We're still going to have to keep a close eye on you. And Sam wants you to pack up all your school books to bring with us."

I sighed angrily and rolled my eyes. "Oh my God, I'm never getting away from the damned school work!"

"He also told me you have some work that you need to get done tonight."

I looked up at him. "Can I just quit school like you did?"

"Alyson, don't joke about that!" he said angrily. "This isn't about me, this is about _you_ , and there is no way in _hell_ that you are dropping out. You're too damned smart for that!"

"I wasn't joking!"

"Well, don't let Sam hear you say that. He'd either be really hurt or royally pissed."

"Hear you say what?" Sam came into the room, and he looked at Dean and then me.

Dean held out his hand. "Go ahead, Alyson, tell him what you said."

I gulped nervously, my mouth going dry.

Dean looked at Sam. "She asked if she could quit school like I did."

Sam looked stunned. Then his face got really angry, and I got scared.

"How can you say that, Alyson? You've got so much potential and you're so smart. You could really make something of your life and to throw that all away just because you can't be bothered to put the effort in... _How can you say that_?" Sam's voice got louder and louder until he was yelling. He advanced towards me, and I noticed that his fists were clenched.

"Sam," Dean said, and took Sam's arm. "Sam! Take a walk." He pulled Sam back a step. Sam glared at me, then at Dean, and finally stormed out of the room. In a few moments, we heard the front door slam.

Dean looked at me. "Congratulations, Alyson. You just pissed Sam off. And you know how hard that is to do."

Tears came to my eyes. "Why is this so difficult?"

"You're making it that way, little girl." he said in a stern voice. "And I've had just about enough. You need to go downstairs and apologise to Calvin for making a mess in his kitchen and breaking that glass, and you're going to need to apologise to Sam when he comes back. Dad said that we've been letting you get away with too much, and I think he's right, especially with the way you've been acting today."

"I've had a headache and I'm not sleeping well!" I said, and it came out a whine.

"Thats no excuse. You've been acting like a brat, and if you cause any more issues tonight, I'll put you over my knees, understand?"

I gulped nervously. "Yes, Dean." I said.

"When Sam gets back he's going to show me what work you need to get finished tonight, and we'll do it in here. Dad said he doesn't want you around computers right now."

"Do I have to do the school work?" I whined.

"Yes." he said. "And if you fight me about it or complain too much, then you'll end up doing it with a sore butt. Your choice." he leaned down and took my arm. "Let's go talk to Calvin."

We walked into the library and I went over to Calvin, who was on a computer.

"Uh, Calvin, I wanted to say I'm sorry for breaking that glass and making a mess." I looked down at my feet. "Do you need me to clean it up?"

"No, I already got it." he said. "You need to remember not to get so worked up, Aly. Take some deep breaths when you're in the middle of all the upset. Think before you say or do something. That will save you a lot of heartache in the future."

Dean looked at me. "Calvin has some good advice, you should listen to him." he said.

"Where's your work for today? Let's get all your stuff and take it to your room."

I followed him over to my desk and we gathered up all my books and papers.

I spread everything out on the desk in my room and then sat down. I was able to find two of the assignments that I hadn't finished, and I started working on one while Dean went to find the laptop and earbuds.

Sam walked into the room a few minutes later. I looked up at him, trying to gauge his mood. He didn't look as angry as he had been, but he still looked upset. I took a deep breath, and said, "Sam, I'm sorry for what I said earlier about quitting and everything. I'm sorry I've been giving you a hard time."

Dean came in as I was talking. Sam looked at him. "She have any more tantrums after I left?" he asked.

"No. I told her she needed to apologise to Calvin, and she did. We brought all the textbooks and papers in here so she could finish up her work from today."

"Well, I think Dad's right." Sam said. "I think we've both been letting her get away with stuff for too long and it's going to stop. Her behavior is getting way out of hand."

"Would you both stop talking about me like I'm not in the room!" I snapped. "I'm right here!"

Sam turned his head to look at me, and I could see the anger in his eyes. "Watch it." he said to me warningly. He looked back at Dean. "With all the bullcrap that I've been putting up with from her, and her little display of temper earlier, I think she's due a spanking tonight. And if you don't do it, I will."

"Sam, you're still angry." Dean said. "I'll deal with her at bedtime." Dad had always tried really hard not to punish any of us when he was angry, and my brothers had tried to abide by that too.

I threw my pen down on the desk. "Great! Why should I even bother doing any of my work, or anything, if I'm just going to be spanked at bedtime no matter what?" I crossed my arms and huffed at them.

Sam walked over to me and pulled me up by my shoulders and leaned down so that his face was in my face. His olive green eyes were dark and intense with anger. "Because it's the right thing to do, little girl. Keep it up with the sassy mouth, and I'll spank you after Dean does."

"I'm sorry, Sam." I said quickly. He only called me little girl when he was seriously pissed at me.

He let go of my shoulders and straightened up. "You know, I keep hearing that from you, and yet I don't see any change in how you act. I think you just say you're sorry to get out of being in worse trouble than you already are."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I had to look down, because I couldn't meet the intensity of his gaze. Finally he pushed on my shoulder. "Sit down and shut your mouth and get your work done." he said. He leaned over the desk and rifled through the papers. "Dean, this is what she needs to work on tonight." Sam gave Dean a couple of papers and a workbook.

I bowed my head and tried to fight the tears that had come to my eyes. Sam had never talked to me that way before. For him, spanking was an absolute last resort, something that he had rarely done with me. I was hurt and surprised, but then I guess I couldn't blame him, because I had been behaving so horribly towards him. I sighed and picked up my pen and started to work.

Sam left the room and Dean sat down on my bed and fiddled with the laptop. It took me a long time to do the work that was left, and the algebra ended up giving me another headache. On top of that, I just wasn't understanding it, and I was getting frustrated.

I turned to Dean. "Dean," I said. He pulled out one of his ear buds.

"Yeah?"

"Can you help me with this?" I asked him. He paused what he was watching and got up and came over to the desk. He picked up the paper and looked it over. "Geez, Aly, I can't remember anything about this. I think I blocked it all out, to be honest!" he laughed.

"Let me see if Sam's still awake." He left the room for a couple minutes, and when he came back, he told me, "Sam and Calvin are both asleep, and it's late. I didn't realise that it's almost midnight. Put your schoolwork away and get ready for bed."

"But Dean, I've got to finish this or Sam will be mad at me." I said.

He looked at me. "It's late and you need to get to bed."

"But-" I started again.

"You're really going to argue with me? Now?" He got up and reached for me and before I realized what was happening, he had pulled me over to the bed and pushed me down across his lap.

"Dean, nooo-" I whined, trying to get up. He tucked me into his side and held me firmly. I grabbed onto his leg and held on.

"I think Sam was right. You're long overdue for a spanking." His hand came down on my butt and I whined wordlessly. He brought his hand down again and again as he scolded me, his voice hard and stern, his hand even harder. "All the crap you've been giving Sam about homeschooling, you can't stay away from the computer even though Dad gave you an order, you're yelling at us, you threw a glass across the room, and then you slam and lock the door practically in my face? And then you have the nerve to bring up quitting school like it's some big joke?!"

"I'm sorry!" I sobbed, "I'm sorry Dean!" I really had been behaving horribly. I started to feel guilty.

"Now, I'm not going to put up with this kind of thing when we are on the road." he said sternly, continuing to spank me, the swats falling a little harder. "You are going to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you, and you're not going to whine or complain or argue, or lie. I will have no problem pulling over to the side of the road and spanking you right then and there. Understand?"

"Yes! Yes sir!" I sobbed, my chest heaving. He let go of me and helped me stand up.

"Go get ready for bed now." he told me. I got my pajamas out and took them to the bathroom with me, I did my night time routine and then walked back to the bedroom.

Dean had moved over to the armchair. He stood up and pulled me over to sit in his lap, and put his arms around me. "I want you on your best behavior while we're on the road, Aly." he said. "I'm a little nervous, and I'm not going to be able to relax until we get to Bobby's. I need you to work with me."

"Why are you nervous?" I was confused.

"Because there may be other demons out there who are looking for you, or us, and they could throw all kinds of shit in our way to make it harder to get to where we need to go. I want to just get on the road and drive stright through if we can. It's going to be hard, but I think we can do it."

The realization that we were going to be out in the open, and that there could be demons looking for me, scared me, and I started to cry.

"Don't cry, Sam and I are going to protect you." he said soothingly.

"Sam's mad at me, he'll probably throw me out the window!" I said.

"No he won't and you know it." Dean said, hugging me tightly. "We'll make it all right." He held me for a few minutes and then patted my back. "In bed now, it's late. Get some rest."

I got in bed, and Dean actually pulled up the covers and tucked me in, which he hadn't done in ages. It made me feel like a kid again, and kinda like he cared about me.

I woke up with a splitting headache. It felt like there was a metal band wrapped around my head, squeezing it tightly, and it hurt so bad. I opened my eyes and then shut them, because the light felt like daggers in my eyes. My head had never hurt like this before.

I felt a hand on my arm. "Aly," Dean said quietly. "What's wrong? You're whimpering."

"My head..." I said. "It hurts so much, Dean. It feels like my brain is being squeezed."

"I'm going to go get Calvin." he said. I heard him leave the room, and in a few minutes, I heard footsteps. I felt the bed dip as somebody sat down.

"Describe the pain for me, little lady." Calvin said.

I sat up and opened my eyes. "It feels like a metal band is squeezing my brain." I said. "When I open my eyes, the light feels like it's stabbing me. It feels like there's a knife stabbing behind my right eye."

"Anything else?"

"I feel- I feel sick to my stomach," I said.

"Bring the trashcan over here." Calvin said to Dean.

"Sounds like you're having a migraine." he said. He stood up. "I'm going to go get you some medicine, and check you over, and I'll be right back."

Dean put his hand on my head. "You'll be okay, Aly."

"Ohhh, I- I feel- I'm gonna-" and I retched and leaned forward. Dean put trashcan in my hands and I held it and threw up into it. I felt Dean take my hair and hold it behind my shoulders. My stomach emptied itself and I was left shaking, with tears streaming down my face. Dean handed me a couple of tissues and I wiped my mouth.

He put his hand on my back. "Any more coming?"

I shook my head, and instantly regretted it, because the movement made it hurt.

Dean turned when Calvin came back in. "She threw up." he reported.

"Yeah, you're having a migraine. Have you ever had one before?" Calvin asked me.

"No." I said. I burst into tears, and then moaned, because that made my head throb. I tried to stop crying, but I kept sniffling. My head hurt so much, I just wanted it to stop.

He sat down on the bed and gave me a glass of ice water. "Rinse and spit," he told me, and I did so into the trash can. He set it on the floor next to the bed, and then took my temperature and my blood pressure. He gave me a small pill and said, "This is for the nausea and vomiting. Hold it under your tongue, it'll dissolve." Then he picked up a syringe.

"I'm going to give you an injection because you aren't going to want to swallow pills right now, and your stomach is digesting slower than usual. This is for the pain and it'll help stop the inflammation that's happening."

He swabbed my upper arm with a damp cotton ball and I turned my head as he uncapped the syringe. I felt someone take my hand.

"Squeeze my hand." Dean told me. I did, and fortunately the injection was over in a second.

Calvin stood up again. "Good thing is, both meds will also knock you out, so you'll get some rest. Hopefully the migraine will be gone by the time you wake up. I'd suggest making the room completely dark right now, because the light's bothering her."

He bent down and picked up the trash can. "I'll bring this back after I clean it, although I don't think she'll need it again."

"Thank you, Calvin." Dean said gratefully. He turned the lights off in the room and left the door open partway so that a little bit of light came in from the hallway. He sat down at the head of the bed and said, "Come here," and pulled me over so that I was laying with my head in his lap. He gently rubbed my forehead and stroked my hair as I tried to drift off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Lots more angst, tears, and a big confrontation in this chapter...**

 **more thanks to delacre for being my co-pilot and editor!**

I didn't actually think I would be able to sleep but then I was waking up on my side, and it was morning. My headache was gone, but my muscles were sore and I felt like I had been hollowed out. I had a long shower, the hot water helping to ease the sore muscles in my neck and shoulders and then slowly, I made my way to the kitchen.

"-gonna need to rest today." Calvin was saying. "A migraine can take a day or two to get over."

"Dammit!" Dean said with frustration, "I really wanted to get on the road this morning."

"One more day ain't gonna make much difference." Calvin said. "Let her rest and see how she feels in the afternoon."

I felt guilty that we weren't going to be able to leave because of me. I walked into the kitchen and sat down.

Sam and Dean were at the table and Calvin was standing at the stove.

"How's your head?" Calvin asked me.

"It doesn't hurt anymore." I said. "I feel all hollow inside and shaky."

"That's from the migraine. It may take ya a couple days to feel normal. I'll send some medicine with ya in case you get another one. Hopefully this was a one-time thing, though. Do ya think you could eat?"

"Not yet." I said, I put my hand to my abdomen, "My stomach doesn't feel right."

Sam looked at me. "I'm sorry you had a rough night." he said sympathetically.

"It was awful." I said. "Thanks for taking care of me, Calvin." I said. I looked at Dean and took his hand. "And thanks, Dean."

He squeezed mine in turn. "Just take care of yourself today so we can hit the road ASAP," he said gruffly.

I felt guilty again, and that made me feel like crying. "I'm sorry…" I started.

Calvin brought over a dish of scrambled eggs. "Ain't nothin' to be sorry about, migraines happen, and you just have to deal with them." he sat down at the table. "Might explain why you were so upset yesterday."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"When you have a migraine, there are things that happen beforehand that let you know that it's coming, like you'll see weird things in your vision like flashes of light. A lot of people also get really emotional the day or two before."

"Oh." I said, feeling embarrassed about my outburst in the kitchen last night.

"It's not anything you can control, you just need to be aware of it. Did you notice anything weird with your vision? Dark spots, flashes of light?"

"I did notice a couple times that it looked like there were sparks flying around for a moment. I didn't know what it was."

Calvin nodded. "Well, if that happens again, you can be pretty sure that a migraine is on its way, and you should do what you need to do."

"You need to pack your stuff today." Dean said to me, sipping from a mug of coffee.

"I will." I said. "Is Missouri going to be at Bobby's too?"

"Not as far as I know." Dean said.

"Did you get all your work done last night?" Sam asked me.

I glanced at Dean and then at Sam. "Um, no." I said slowly. "I had trouble with the algebra again. And Dean couldn't help me, he doesn't remember how to do it. You were asleep by the time I was working on it."

He sat forward and looked at me seriously. "I'm going to check your work and then I want you to show me what you're having trouble with. I want you to do some work today before we get on the road."

"Sam, she needs to rest." Calvin told him.

"I know," Sam said. "But doing a little bit of work shouldn't be a problem, should it?"

"It's up to her." Calvin said. "If she tells ya it's too much, then back off. We don't want her getting another migraine."

I drank a glass of water and then went back to bed for a while. When I woke up I felt a little hungry, so I made myself some toast. My head was hurting a little bit, so Calvin a made a fresh pot of coffee and gave me a big mug of it.

Sam came into the kitchen while I was eating and said, "Let's try and get some of your assignments done."

I sighed. "Okay, I guess. My head is hurting a little."

"Well, you've got a cup of coffee, that should help." Sam said. "Come on."

We went into my room and sat down. He picked up the papers and said, "You did fine with the social studies and language arts. Are you done reading 'Emma'?"

"Almost." I said.

"After you're finished, I want you to write a book report on it. The way you did it in school- outline first, then rough draft, the whole nine yards. And turn everything in to me."

I groaned. "Whyyyy, Sam? I hated doing that!"

"Because that's the way it's done."

"Why do you have to be such a stick-in-the-mud?"

"Because I am. And that's the way I want it done. Now quit arguing with me!" he picked up another paper. "Let's talk about algebra." he said.

"Sam, I need to pack. Can't we do this later?" I asked.

"No, I want to get this finished before we go. You'll have time to pack later."

"But Sam-"

He lowered the paper and gave me the Winchester Glare. "Alyson, that's enough." he said sternly. "Let's get through this. _No. More. Arguing_."

I looked at my lap, and mumbled, "Sorry."

"What are you having problems with?"

I tried to explain what was causing the issues, but he seemed to think that I had actually understood the concepts well enough. I couldn't translate that to the page though, and it was making my head start to hurt again. He explained things to me again and watched me write out one math problem, and then told me to get to work on the rest of the page.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, I need to make sure all my stuff is packed up."

He left the room for a while and I tried doggedly to get through the algebra while my headache got worse. I drank some coffee, and then went to the kitchen to refill my cup. I brought it back and set it on the desk next to me.

Sam came back into the room and I handed him my paper. He paced the room as he looked at it, chewing on his lip. Then he walked over to me.

He slammed the paper down on the desk. "Aly, this is crap." he snapped. "I _know_ you know how to do this."

I looked up at him. "No, I don't, Sam! I already told you I don't understand how to show my work the right way!" I was frustrated and a little confused by his anger.

He folded his arms, annoyance on his face. "Why am I just hearing about this today? I _told_ you more than once to ask me for help!"

"Every time I try to work on algebra it makes my headache worse." I complained, rubbing my forehead. "There's not much you can do about that!"

"You're making excuses. I know you understand the concepts, you just aren't doing the work. You're not putting in any effort." He tapped the paper with his finger.

"I keep asking you to cut me some slack and you won't! I'm supposed to be resting today!" I protested in a whine.

"You _did_ rest, and I told you I wanted you to do some work before we left. If I had known you were going to give me this much crap about it I would have just said we should go. We're wasting time with this when we could be on the road."

"Well I'm sorry I'm such a waste of time! I'm sorry you're burdened with having to teach your lazy, dumb little sister!" I glared at him, feeling hurt.

"That's _not_ what I meant. And don't call yourself dumb." he chided me.

"Why not? All this does is makes me feel stupid! It's obvious that I'm not cut out for this, and I'm not living up to your expectations. We should just stop this, 'cause all it's doing is stressing us both out!"

"Aly, you have to do some sort of schooling. You can't just give up. Besides, it's the law."

"Well maybe I want to give up! And since when do any of you care about the law!" I sneered, throwing the pencil down and shoving the books across the desk. The pencil rolled off with a clatter and the papers drifted down onto the floor.

He glared at me. "If I hear you talk about quitting, one more time, I swear to God-" he started.

"If I had known that this was what home schooling was going to be like, I would have said no! _You're_ the one that wanted to do this! This is _too_ hard, and _too_ stressful, and I _hate_ it!" I pounded my fists on my thighs.

"You're still going to have to do it, even if you hate it," he tried to sound reasonable.

"Well _FUCK THAT_!" I shouted, and grabbed the cup of coffee. I threw it, and the cup exploded against the wall, spraying coffee all over everything on the desk. The home-schooling books were now covered with brown stains of coffee and little white shards of ceramic.

We both stopped and stood stock still for a long moment. Then he advanced on me, staring me down. I knew at that moment I had pushed him too far.

"I'm sorry, Sam-" I quavered.

He grabbed my arm and pushed me towards the bed, shoving me down onto it.

"I told you _never_ to say that to me _again_!" he said through clenched teeth. I noticed what he was doing. He was unbuckling his belt.

I sat up on the bed. "Sam, no!" I gasped. "I'm sorry! I'll write lines, I'll write a thousand lines if you want-"

" _NO,_ Alyson. I've had _enough_. I've had more than enough! I've _tried_ to be understanding and I've _tried_ to give you a break, but this is _it_!" he pulled his belt out of the loops and I sprang up off the bed and started to run for the door.

His huge hand grabbed my upper arm and he jerked me around to face him and pulled me over to the bed again. In one fluid movement he sat down and put me over his knee, securing me in place with his other leg over the back of mine. This wasn't something I wanted to happen, ever! I was starting to cry already, because I knew that I had pushed Sam past his breaking point and I was really regretting it. Why the hell did I have to keep pushing and pushing him? What was wrong with me?

"Sam!" I struggled, trying to get up, and he landed a swat on my butt so hard it took my breath away. He put his arm on my lower back, pinning me to the bed.

"NO!" he said again, in that deep, hard voice he had used before, and my insides trembled. I heard the buckle jingle and then the slight swish as the belt came down and then a stripe of fire landed on my butt and I howled.

"Please, Sam!" I tried to catch my breath. "I'm sorry, Sam, pleeeease-"

"Your words mean nothing!" he snapped. "I want to see a change in your behavior and only then will I believe that you're truly sorry!"

The belt came down again and I burst into heaving sobs. There was no way I was getting out if this.

"I've had it with your shitty attitude," he lectured, as he brought the belt down over and over on my stinging bottom. "I don't have to be teaching you, yet I am, because I know how intelligent you are and I want to help you reach your full potential. You need to _stop_ with all the snide comments and sarcasm, and you need to _stop_ all the swearing and disrespect, _AND_ you need to _STOP_ with the tantrums!" I yelped as he swatted me extra hard a couple more times, right on the lowest part of my bottom.

"You're not a little kid anymore, but I swear to God if you keep this bullshit up, I will start treating you like one and you'll go to bed early and you'll have a ton of rules and get spanked every time you break _any_ of them! Is that what you want?" His voice was loud and intimidating.

I was more focused on the pain of the blows raining down that what he was saying.

"Alyson, answer me!" He snarled.

"No!" I sobbed. "No, please, Sam, stop, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"I'm tired of hearing 'sorry'!" He yelled, and I flinched because his voice was so deep and angry. The belt whacked me again, harder still, and I wailed, "Saaa-aa-aamm!"

He put his arm down on my back, with the belt dangling from his hand, and I heard him take a deep breath.

I laid there sobbing over his knee. I was shaking.

"Aly-" he said in a quiet voice. He let me up and tried to take my arm, but I pulled away from him. I crawled onto my bed. I couldn't believe that Sam, who was my best friend when I was little, who was my confidant who used to read to me every night and could talk me out of a bad mood, had just punished me so severely. He was usually the one who would try to reason with Dean and try to get him to go easy on me.

I was devastated. I had pushed him too far, but I had expected that he would just push back and not lose it.

"Go away." I sobbed.

"Aly-" he said again, and I could hear in his voice that he was upset.

"NO!" I said. "Go away, Sam, I mean it!" I turned away from him and clutched my pillow, sobbing into it. I heard him sigh and then he stood up. I heard him putting his belt back on and then he left the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

I laid there crying for a while, until the pain in my rear had faded some. I got up and went to the bathroom and washed my face. There was a roll of paper towels under the sink and I took it into my room. I cleaned up the broken mug as best as I could and blotted up the coffee. I cut my hand on one of the larger shards, but I didn't want to stop cleaning, so I wrapped a paper towel around it and kept going. I had no idea if I could even rescue the books that had had coffee spilled on them. I took the one that had gotten the worst of it and put pieces of paper towel between the damp pages.

Someone knocked on the door. I didn't answer. After a moment, it opened.

"Aly." Dean said. I didn't look at him. He came over to where I was standing at the desk.

"Jesus." he said. "You really did a number on the wall." There was a huge brown splotch behind the desk.

He took my hand that had the paper towel on it. "What happened?"

I tried to pull my hand away, but he held onto me.

"Aly, what happened?" he asked sternly. "Did you-"

"I cut myself on a broken piece of the mug. It was an accident," I said dully, not meeting his eyes.

"Let me take a look." he said quietly.

"I'm fine." I said in clipped voice.

He pulled on my hand. "No, I want to check it." he insisted. He took the paper towel off and looked at my hand. "Let's go clean this out and put a bandage on it, okay?"

"Dean-" It felt like he was just being nice to me because he was supposed to be, not because he was really concerned.

He didn't say anything, just pulled me into the bathroom and sat me down on the closed toilet seat. I stared at the floor as he held my hand over the sink and cleaned and bandaged the cut.

"So you and Sammy had a real blow up, huh?" he asked gently.

I didn't answer him.

He sighed. "Well, this should make the next couple of days in the car interesting."

I did look at him then. "I'm not going." I said flatly.

"The hell you're not!" he said firmly "We're driving to Bobby's for _you_ , to find something to help you out and make it safe for you to be out in the real world again. Don't you want to try and get back to normal?"

"Yeah, and you guys can go back to hunting all the time and I'll just sit at home and do your laundry and cook your food!" I snapped. "I know that the hunt is all that matters to you!"

"Aly, you know that's not true."

I stared at him right in the eyes. " _Really_ , Dean? _Really_? You're not just itching to get back out there?" He dropped his eyes after a moment. I stood up abruptly and walked out of the bathroom.

He followed me. "Alyson, stop. That's not-"

"Whatever..." I sighed. I walked back into my room.

He came in after me, "Listen-"

"There's nothing more to say, Dean. I don't want to talk to you or Sam right now. Leave me alone." I laid down and turned away from him. He stood there for a moment, then left the room.

I worked on packing up all of my stuff. I didn't have that much, mostly just clothes that Dad had packed for me after I had been rescued and brought here. I left the coffee-stained books out on the desk, hoping they would dry by the time we left tomorrow.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Sam and Dean tried to talk to me and draw me out, but I ignored them both. I kept my eyes on my plate and barely ate anything. My stomach was still feeling off, and my heart was hurting too.

The phone rang and it was Dad, wanting to check on us. Once again, Dean left the room for a few minutes, and then came back and held the phone out to me.

I looked up at him. "No," I said flatly. "I don't want to talk to him. I have nothing to say."

"Aly, take the phone." Dean shook it at me.

"NO!" I shouted, and I stood up and ran to my room, slamming the door closed. I didn't need to be yelled at by anyone else right now. I laid down on the bed and started crying, feeling so alone. How had my life gotten to this point? Why had things ended up like this? It probably would have been better if I wasn't part of their lives, if I was just gone. Then they wouldn't have had to waste time taking care of me or worrying about me getting hurt or whatever. I was worse than useless to them; I was nothing.

I don't know how long I laid there. Eventually there was a knock on the door. I didn't answer, but the door opened, and my brothers came in. I was sitting up on my bed with my knees bent, and I turned my head to the wall so I wasn't looking at them.

"Aly, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for losing it with you." Sam said quietly.

I didn't answer him or move my head. I just kept staring at the wall.

"This has been rough for all of us, and I took out my frustrations on you and I'm sorry." Sam said.

"Hey!" Dean said, his voice laced with disapproval, "Sam's talking to you. How about some acknowledgement?"

I turned my head and spoke to Dean. "How about _you_ acknowledge that you guys have been too hard on me, especially yesterday, when how I was acting wasn't really my fault!"

Dean glanced at Sam, and then looked at me. "What are you talking about?"

"Calvin said that people get more emotional before they have a migraine. You guys have been really mean to me!"

"When Calvin said that, it made me realize that I've been too hard on you, and I was going to try to go easier on you, but...I didn't." Sam said, looking at the floor with a guilty look on his face.

I steadfastly ignored him and focused my attention on Dean.

"Fine, I'll give you that we were a little hard on you yesterday and that we didn't know that you were acting all, 'emotional', because of the migraine thing." Dean said, "But you've been acting out way before yesterday."

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest.

"What I said last night still stands, Alyson." Dean said seriously. "I expect you to be on your best behavior while we are traveling. And I'm not going to put up with any crap."

"Yes Sir, Mr. Drill Sergeant, Sir!" I said sarcastically.

Dean looked stunned. "You're _really_ going to get mouthy with me? After you just made a fuss about how mean we are to you?" he pointed at me. "I'm warning you, little girl. If I have to, I'll make a rule that you can only speak when you're spoken to."

"And how are you going to enforce it?" I sneered. "I'm not a little kid who's all scared of big brother Dean anymore!"

Dean stalked towards me, growling angrily and Sam grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Dean, go. Take a walk or something. She's doing this to get a rise out of you."

"What she's gonna get is an ass beating from me!" he yelled, and Sam turned him. "Just go, Dean."

Dean stormed out of the room. Sam turned to me.

"I'm not sure why you're doing this." he said in a quiet voice. "You really need to think about how you're acting."

I knew why I was doing it. I was pushing them away before they could do it to me.

I looked down at my lap and ignored him. He walked over to me and said, "Would you talk to me!"

I stood up and walked around him and went into the bathroom. I stayed there until I figured he was I went back to my room and went to bed.


	12. Chapter 12

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: More angst, more tears, and a big decision...**

 **Please welcome delacre as co-author from here on out!**

Dean woke me up early in the morning. "Aly," he shook my shoulder, "Come on, wake up. We're going to leave soon. Come and get something to eat."

I sat up and looked at him.

"Are you all packed up?" he asked.

I nodded.

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but all he said was, "I'll see you in the kitchen."

He left and I got dressed. I looked around the room. All I had left to do was to put my textbooks in my backpack. After that, I brought all my stuff out the kitchen where I found them all at the table eating.

Calvin asked, "How are you feeling today?"

"Better." I said, simply.

"I gave Dean some medicine for you in case you get another migraine. If you do, maybe consider seeing a specialist so they can get you on some kind of preventive medication, okay?."

"Okay." I replied, smiling at him, "Thanks for taking care of me, Calvin."

"You're welcome, little lady."

I listened to Sam and Dean discuss the route and driving schedule for our impending road trip, while I ate my cereal.

"It should take us about 9 or 10 hours to get to Bobby's," Dean was saying while glancing at me. "We'll probably go through drive-thrus and eat on the road 'cause I don't want to take the extra time to stop for a sit-down meal. Hopefully, we'll get there later tonight."

"I got us some food and drinks for the road too, so there'll be snacks if you get hungry. The cooler will be in the back with you." Sam told me. I kept looking down at my plate, purposely not responding to him. After a moment, I heard him sigh.

When Dean had finished eating, he took my bags out to the car while Sam started clearing the table.

"Leave 'em! I'll get the dishes after you've gone," Calvin told him with a wave of his hand, "I know you're anxious to get on the road."

After that, it only took a few minutes before we were ready to go. Calvin walked out to the car with us, his arm around my shoulders. He shook hands with the boys and then hugged me.

"Stay safe, y'all," he said. "Call me when you get there so I know you made it."

"Will do Calvin, and thanks." Dean said as we all got in the car. Soon Dean revved Baby's engine and we were off. I settled myself into the seat behind Sam and fastened my seatbelt before either of them could get on my case about it.

We had only been on the road for a few minutes when Sam turned to me. He held out a book and looked at me expectantly.

"When I went out to buy food yesterday, I got this for you," he said. "It's a Margaret Atwood book that I haven't seen before. It's an older one, I guess."

I looked at him but didn't say anything. He had a hopeful look in his eyes because he knew how much I had loved Margaret Atwood's works ever since first discovering her last year. Sam and I had read 'A Handmaid's Tale' together and had driven Dean crazy with our never-ending discussions over the book's many themes. Sam was obviously trying to make up for what had happened yesterday but I wasn't ready to deal with him, much less forgive him. I was still way too hurt and angry.

He tried to push the book at me when it was clear I had no intentions of taking it from him. Instead, I turned my head and stared out the window.

Sam sighed, stretching behind himself awkwardly to put the book on the seat next to me. Then he turned back around.

Almost immediately after, I picked up the book, leaned forward and tossed it forcefully into his lap. Then I took off my seatbelt, scooted over until I was behind Dean and re-buckled myself.

I heard Sam make a noise in the back of his throat. Dean looked at me in the rear view mirror, and his eyes were angry.

"Don't take your seat belt off like that again. Stay in one place." he said.

I turned my head to look out the window.

"Do you hear me?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation.

"Yes Sir!" I snapped.

"Don't start, Alyson," he said. "I'm warning you. I will pull this car over if I have to and then you'll be in double the trouble, because having to deal with you will put us off schedule."

I didn't respond, I just kept staring at the passing scenery.

Dean muttered something under his breath and I caught the words "brat" and "sore ass".

After a little while Dean turned on some music. My brothers started reminiscing about times they had gone on different hunts and some of the places that we had travelled to.

"Hey Aly, remember that place out west that claimed to be a zoo but all it had was a bunch of weird animal sculptures?" Dean asked.

"I remember that Dad spanked me really hard in the parking lot." I said.

"Yeah, but you ran away from us and almost got hit by a car." Dean said.

"I was really freaked out by the statues," I explained. "I wanted to get out of there and I wasn't thinking straight."

"You should have said something."

"I was only five years old! And I was trying to be brave like you guys."

"Hey! Pass me a soda, would you?" Dean asked. "Sam, want one?"

"No, I'm good." Sam said.

I took out a can of soda and handed it to Dean. Looking through the rest of the cooler to see exactly what healthy crap Sam had deemed 'snacks', I noticed that there were some cans of beer at the bottom. I took out my own soda and close the lid with a snap.

The sun, high overhead now, was streaming in through the back window of the Impala and the direct heat was making me feel sleepy. I found myself involuntarily leaning against the door and dozing. Eventually though, the heat became too uncomfortable so I loosened my seat belt a little and then laid down in the back seat.

Fully awake now, the rising temperature and close quarters fuelling my annoyance with my brothers, I quietly opened the cooler again and took out one of the cans of beer. If I pretended to be asleep, they wouldn't notice that I was drinking it. I took a sip and nearly started coughing. Ugh, it was gross! How could they enjoy drinking this stuff all the time? I took a deep breath and, determined to get through it, chugged as much as I could taking alternating sips of my soda to wash away the foul taste of the beer.

By the time I had finished it, my head started to feel funny. Not a bad kind of funny, a good kind of funny. I laid there with my eyes closed, acutely aware of the gentle, steady rocking of the car.

"We'll need to stop to fill up the tank in a while," I heard Dean say.

"She's out." Sam told him. Good! He thought I was asleep!

After a couple minutes, I took out another can of beer. This one went down easier. It was kind of amusing; the more you drank, the less you minded the taste. I stuck the empty cans as far under the front seat as I could and turned over to face the back seat. They wouldn't be able to tell that I had had anything to drink, would they?

Eventually I felt the car pull to a stop and Dean turned off the engine.

I heard their seat belts click. "I'm going to go in." Sam said.

"Let her rest." Dean replied. Both car doors opened, closed and then I heard Dean opening the door of the gas tank.

I sat up in the car and looked around. I was alone! I guessed that both of them had gone into the convenience store. I opened my door and got out. I felt a little wobbly, like the world around me was slightly tilted, but the sensation made me laugh. I started to walk away from the gas pump towards a fruit stand that was next to the gas station. Maybe they had pie! As I stumbled across the lot, I heard my name.

"Aly!" Sam called. I heard footsteps behind me and felt a hand on my arm soon after. Then Sam was in front of me. "What are you doing? Are you trying to run away?" he looked worried.

I pointed at the stand. "Farm fresh fruits, Sammy. Let's see if they have any pie for Dean." My words were slurring together.

Sam's eyes scanned my face. "Oh my God, you're drunk! How the hell…" he took my arm, "Let's go." he said tightly, pulling me with him.

"Saaam, you're walking too faaast!" I whined, as I stumbled over my feet trying to keep up with his long legs.

Dean was standing by the car. "Just what the hell is going on?" he asked angrily.

Sam let go of my arm when I was in front of Dean.

"She's drunk." Sam said flatly.

"What?" Dean gaped at me. "Did you sneak some of the beer out of the cooler?" he leaned down into the back seat and looked around, then came back out holding the two empty cans. He held them up and glared at me. "You know what, I was going to say explain yourself, but I don't even fucking care anymore. Get in the Goddamn car." he said. He turned and threw the cans into a trash can.

I stood there looking at him.

"Did you hear me?" he yelled. "I said get in the car!" he turned me and swatted my butt twice. I got into the back seat, tears in my eyes. He was so mean to me!

They got in and Dean started the car.

"Should we get her some coffee to sober her up?" Sam asked.

"I want to keep driving," Dean said. "We'll see how she is in a couple hours."

"I'm right here ya know!" I snapped, "You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here!"

"Lose the attitude!" Dean snapped.

" _You_ lose the attitude!" I sneered back at him.

"Alyson-" Dean started, but Sam cut him off. "She's drunk, Dean. Don't take the bait, just ignore her."

I punched the back of his seat. "Shut up!" I yelled.

Dean gave me a dark look. "Keep digging yourself deeper into that hole, kid." he said.

I crossed my arms and huffed, turning my head to the window again. We listened to Led Zeppelin Two, Three, and then Four. By the time the music had stopped, Dean was checking to see if we were hungry.

He turned around and looked at me. "Alyson?"

"Being in the car is making me feel sick." I whined.

"Dammit!" he said under his breath. "Fine, we'll stop, but you're going to eat a full meal and drink enough coffee to sober your ass up."

A few minutes later, we were turning into a diner parking lot and going in to eat.

"I'm not really hungry." I said.

"I don't care." Dean said. "You need to absorb the alcohol. I told you, you're gonna eat." he glared at me.

The waitress came over. "What can I get y'all to drink?" she asked.

"Coffee and a glass of water for her." Sam said. Dean ordered soda and Sam ordered water. When she brought our drinks, Sam pushed the water in front of me. "Drink the whole glass." he said. "It'll help."

I glared at him and then stared at the table.

Dean opened his menu and then looked at me. "You better already know what you want, or you better open that menu up and start deciding." he gritted out.

I huffed and opened the menu.

Sam mixed cream and sugar into my coffee and put the cup in front of me. I pushed it back to the middle of the table.

Dean slammed his hand down, making me jump. He leaned forward and pointed at me. "Sam is trying to help you." he said in a low, hard voice. "Stop being such a bitch to him."

Tears came immediately to my eyes. He had never spoken to me like that before. Sam looked at me, and I must have looked upset, because he said, "Dean, that was uncalled for."

"I'm sick of this, Sam. I've had it!" he raked his fingers through his hair.

The waitress came and took our orders and we sat in uncomfortable silence as we waited for the food. Dean glowered at me and I stared at my placemat, wiping my eyes.

Nearly 20 minutes later she was back, putting plates on the table.

"You eat everything on that plate, or you'll end up over my knee in the back of the car." Dean said, pointing his fork at me.

I did as I was told. I drank the now lukewarm coffee and ate my food.

"I need to use the restroom." I said, once I had swallowed my last mouthful of mashed potatoes

"Sam, go with her." Dean growled.

"I don't need…" I started, but Dean glared at me and raised his eyebrow. I sighed. Sam followed me and waited in the hallway.

When we came back to the table, there was another mug of coffee at my place.

"I'm full," I said, though it came out as a whine.

"Drink." Dean said. "Get sober."

I sat down and drank the coffee while Dean ordered himself a piece of apple pie.

He ate it with relish, his mood seemingly lifting. "This is really good. I should see if they sell whole pies and take one with us." he said. He finished and we slid out of the booth. Sam paid the bill and I waited at the counter, watching while Dean charmed the waitress into giving him an extra slice of pie for free.

Dean watched me closely as we walked back to the car. "I guess you've sobered up enough." he said. "You'll be fine to face the music later."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked petulantly, though I knew exactly what he was getting at.

"You don't think I'm going to let this slide, do you?" Dean scoffed. "You're in trouble, little girl, and I'm going to deal with you later tonight."

"Dean, I really think you should think about that." Sam said.

Dean turned to him. "Sam, when Dad caught both of us drinking when we were kids, he blistered both our asses, and that's what he would do if he was here. But he's not, so now it's my job."

"But after everything that's been happening…"

"I don't care! That's between you and her and I'm not going to let this type of misbehavior slide just because she's pouting at you. Sulking over a punishment doesn't give her a free pass from behaving or from getting punished again. I _told_ her that I wasn't going to put up with any crap while we were on the road. Because of her and this bullshit, we're now behind schedule and we're probably going to have to stop for the night. That's keeping us out in the open for longer than we need to be and puts us all at risk of the demons finding us! We should have been getting to Bobby's by _tonight_ and now we won't be there until tomorrow morning. This is _her_ fault, and she's got to face the consequences of her actions!"

Dean opened the back door and pushed me down into the seat. "Tonight-" he said in a threatening voice. "You, me and my belt are gonna have a talk, little girl."

He took my chin and made me look at him. "Do you understand?"

I glared up at him. "Piss off, Dean!" I tried scooting away from him.

He pressed his lips together, narrowed his eyes and maintained his hold on me. "Well, you just made this a whole lot worse." Finally, he let go of my chin. "Get buckled, and I don't want to hear another word out of you." he snapped.

We pulled into the hotel parking lot late in the evening. Dean got out and went into the office while Sam turned around to face me. "How's your head?" he asked. I turned my face to look out the window.

"What do you want to eat tonight? We're going to stay in the room, so I'll go get take-out."

I didn't answer him. After a long moment of silence, he let out a long breath in frustration.

Dean came back and got in the car. We drove around to the back of the hotel and parked in the end space. He got out and quickly opened my door, gesturing for me to follow suit. I unbuckled and stepped out, Dean immediately taking my arm and leading me straight into the room and over to the sofa. He practically pushed me down onto the end of it and pointed at me. "Your ass stays right here on this sofa."

Together, they brought in our bags, the cooler and the bag of food from the car. They spent the next several minutes salting the windows and doors and making things safe. Then Sam looked at the booklet that the hotel had provided with a list of all the nearby restaurants. They decided to get Chinese food.

"Aly, what do you want?" Dean asked me.

"Don't bother," Sam said. "She's giving both of us the silent treatment." He stood up. "I'll go out and get the food and some beer."

"Don't forget pie." Dean said.

"Didn't you already get an extra slice from that waitress?"

Dean offered condescendingly, "One slice is never enough, Sammy."

Sam scoffed and shook his head. "All right, I'll find a grocery store and get you some pie too." Sam took the car keys and left.

Dean wasted no time in walking over and staring me down. "Let's do this now, while Sam's not here." he said. "Unless you don't care if Sam sees you getting your ass blistered."

I looked at him. "I have a headache!" I whined.

"That's what happens when you drink, sweetheart. Deal with it." He started to take off his belt as he came to sit next to me and that's when I jumped up and tried to make a run for it. I had just reached the door when he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off the floor. There was a small dining set near the door and he snagged one of the chairs with his foot and pulled it towards us. He sat down and dropped me over his lap, his leg pinning both of mine in a matter of seconds. I grabbed on to the rungs of the chair.

"I told you I'm not putting up with any more bullshit." he said.

I heard the belt buckle clink, and then I yelped as he brought it down for the first stripe. It didn't take long before he started lecturing me as he swung the belt again and again.

"Alyson, you need to grow the hell up and stop letting your impulses guide you. You're the one who keeps doing this to yourself. I'm tired of you getting in trouble for the same reasons over and over again. And I'm REALLY tired of having to be the one who has to deal with you! You need to change your behavior and stop being such a brat."

He methodically laid down stripe after burning stripe on my butt, one right below the next. I didn't count nor did I plead or say anything, although I did struggle, kick and whimper. I cried and cried until the carpet under my head had a damp spot below me.

He shifted me on his lap, raising my butt higher and then the belt came down again, whacking the lower curve of my rear and the tops of my thighs. I shrieked and kicked more forcefully, trying to get up but then he stopped and I heard him drop the belt on the floor. He let me up after a few moments and I stumbled into a standing position, crying so hard I could barely see. I felt his hand on my arm.

"I hate you, Dean. I really hate you!" I sobbed and I yanked my arm away, staggering over to the bed. I crawled under the covers and laid down on my stomach, pulling the pillow over my head. That was always Sam's and my go-to position after we'd been punished in a hotel room. It was a way to feel like we were hiding from the others; a way to pretend that they couldn't hear our tears.

I laid in bed crying for some time while listening to Dean move around the room. Then the tv came on and I heard him sit on the couch.

Eventually the hotel room door opened.

"Finally!" Dean said.

"Yeah, even though there's only one grocery store in this podunk town, I had a hell of a time finding it." Sam said.

"Aly, come eat." Dean called to me. He waited a moment. "Or not." he said. I could hear the sounds of them taking the food out of bags and taking the tops off beer bottles. At the thought of beer, my stomach turned over. I hoped I didn't throw up.

I moved the pillow off my head and turned to glance at them, to see where they were. They were both sitting on the sofa, with the Chinese food containers spread out on the coffee table in front of them.

Sam said, "Aly, I got you sweet and sour chicken with mixed veggies."

I turned away from him and pulled the covers over my head. I wasn't going to engage with them if I could help it. Dean had said he was tired of dealing with me, had called me a brat and sworn at me. I was deeply hurt by the way they had been treating me even though I knew I was pushing all their buttons repeatedly. Was this going to continue when we got to Bobby's? And then I realized that we were going to be there with Dad too. He was going to be so pissed off at me for the way I'd been acting that I was probably never going to be able to sit down again after he got ahold of me.

Suddenly, I remembered when I had been small; how happy I would be to see them when they came back from a hunt. Dad would always say, "There's my girl!" and swing me up in his arms. Dean would either bring me a chocolate bar or leave one for me when Sam was watching me. That all changed when Sam got older and started to go out with them. Sam questioned Dad about everything, wanting to be part of the decision making process. The three of them would come in arguing and angry, barely saying anything to me. Then, somehow, Dad would end up turning on me and finding something to scold me for. By the time I was almost a teenager, I no longer cared if he reprimanded me because I was so angry about being left with random people like some discarded family pet.

I started crying again and tried to keep quiet, my bitter memories helping me to formulate a plan in my mind. I eventually fell asleep, the sound of my brothers chatting while they watched a movie lulling me to sleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a start. Sam was still fully clothed and draped over the other bed on his stomach, while Dean was sprawled out over the sofa. They were both completely out of it. There were empty beer bottles all over the coffee table as was an open bottle of whiskey that was less than a third full. I got out of bed quietly and pulled stuff out of my backpack, replacing them with some clothes and food. I walked over to the dresser and picked up Dean's wallet. I took out the cash he had in there and shoved it in the bottom of my backpack. I looked at both of them for a moment, steeling my heart against the burgeoning sadness, and walked out of the room, closing the door very quietly behind me.

I had managed to stow away in the back of a camper van that was conveniently stopped at a red light when I had walked along the highway for about 20 minutes. We had travelled for a few hours before the driver pulled up to make a pitstop at a convenience store. Deciding to err on the side of caution, I slipped out of the van when I heard the driver enter the store and made my way back to the highway. It wasn't more than fifteen minutes later when someone pulled over beside me. It was an elderly man with a head full of salt and pepper hair and a heavily lined face.

"Where ya going, hon?" he asked me, his voice friendly and light.

I pointed in the direction his car was pointed. "That way." I said, resettling my backpack over my shoulder.

He laughed. "Well, I am too. Do you want a ride? Come on, get in!"

He seemed pretty harmless and the prospect of having to walk tens of miles more with a heavy backpack to get to the next town was exceptionally unappealing. Without much more thought, I climbed into his truck and we were on our way.

Andrew, or Andy for short, was a cheerful grandfather of 8 who spent the whole time telling me stories about his kids and grandkids. He asked me once if I wanted to talk because apparently I looked like I needed to, but I shook my head no and he didn't press me. We had been driving for a few hours and it was almost dawn when he pulled off the road at a huge truck stop. There was a rest stop, a restaurant and a gas station there too. We pulled up to one of the gas pumps.

"Here's where I've got to let you off." he said. "I'm almost home, and my wife would kill me if she found out I'd picked up another one."

"Another one?" I asked.

He looked embarrassed. "I pick up young people when I see them on the side of the road and give them a ride. She's scared I'm going to get murdered someday but I figure if I can help some kid get away from a bad situation or start a new life, why not do it? I'd hope someone would help my grandkids in the same situation." He reached into his pocket and took out some folded cash. "Here, take this to help you out."

"No, really, I can't." I said, shaking my head.

He looked at me. "I know you're running from something. Trust me, you 'll need it."

"I have money…" I said.

"You'll need more." He pushed it at me, again. "Take it, and if you don't use it, give it to someone else who needs it."

"Thank you," I whispered, overwhelmed with his generosity. He patted my arm and I got out of the truck and walked to the bathrooms.

In the stall next to me, I heard someone groan, "Oh, great!"

I saw a hand reach under my stall. "Can you hand me some toilet paper? This stall is empty." It was a girl's voice.

"Sure," I said. I handed her a wad of paper. "Need more?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

We both left the stalls at the same time and went to the sink. While I was washing my hands, I looked at her in the mirror. She had brown eyes and cute, short blond hair.

"Hi!" she said. "My name's Meg."


	13. Chapter 13

"She said she hated me, Sammy." Dean said brokenly. "That was the last thing she said to me." He scrubbed his hand across his face. "What the hell are we going to do?"

Sam had woken up only a few minutes ago in significant pain. The hotel pillows were like slabs of granite and the crick in his neck had woken him up from an otherwise restful sleep. His eyes immediately went to the other bed, noticing the empty bedding and it didn't take him long to realise that their sister was missing. After checking the bathroom, the closet and the immediate vicinity outside the hotel door, Sam had turned his hunter's eyes on the room. Aly's backpack was not there; her schoolbooks and papers were on the floor in a messy pile by the bed and her duffle was left gaping open. Most of her clothes and her favorite hiking boots were gone.

Sam had walked over and shaken his sleeping brother awake.

"Dean, wake up." Sam had said. "Aly's run away."

After they searched the room a little more, they realized that Aly had been rather systematic in gathering her getaway supplies. All of her favorite snacks were missing from their stash as was the bottle of water from the mini-bar. Dean suddenly muttered, "Son of a bitch" and hurried over to the dresser and searched his wallet. "She took all my cash!" he said, throwing it on the dresser in disgust. He looked at his brother in resignation, "She really did run away."

The realization that their little sister was God knew where, was unprotected with demons likely after her and had actually left them intentionally, was terrifying. Dean saw his own fear reflected in Sam's face.

"How the hell are we going to find her? She could have gone anywhere," he said.

"We need to go out and start asking people if they saw her." Sam replied. "Do you have a recent picture of her?"

"Uhh-" Dean began rooting through his wallet again and then exclaimed, "Cell phone! Sam, did you take any pictures of her recently with your phone?"

"Oh yeah! I took some pictures of her when I went to her school concert a couple months ago," Sam headed over to the nightstand. He thought about how much things had changed since that day and shook his head ruefully. Neither of them had had any idea how far off the rails their relationship with Aly would go and this was just the beginning. He scrolled through his phone and pulled up the photos. He'd shot them from quite a distance and they were grainy; practically unusable.

"We'll have to ask Dad if he has any," Sam said, after showing them to Dean.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

"I'm Alyson," I said to Meg.

"Thanks again for the paper," she smiled, heading out of the bathroom. I waited a couple of minutes and then followed. I didn't really feel like talking anymore right now.

I started walking across the parking lot to the restaurant. My stomach was growling with hunger, since I hadn't eaten anything last night.

I made my way between the rows of parked cars and stopped in front of some vending machines. Putting my backpack on the ground, I unzipped it and took out the money Andy had given me; I had quickly stashed it with Dean's stolen money before heading into the bathroom. I pulled a $20 bill from the wad of cash and started to return the rest when suddenly something plowed into me, knocking me forward onto the ground.

"Gimme that money!" hissed a man's voice. A skinny, dishevelled man was on his knees next to me, grabbing my wrist and trying to twist the money out of my hand.

I rolled over onto my side attempting to pull away from him. I lifted my knees between us, trying to use them to shove him away from me but then he let go and punched me in the face repeatedly. I was temporarily stunned as pure, unadulterated agony exploded in my head. I felt his hands on my wrist again, and I struggled weakly.

He pushed his knee into my side and with an angry grunt, twisted my arm behind me. I felt sure he was trying to break it and I began to see spots in my vision from the pain. Then all of a sudden, I felt his weight leave me.

"-the fuck?" he snarled. I turned slowly over onto my back to see a large man standing there, holding my attacker by the back of his shirt. My rescuer clutched at his shirt even tighter and shook the man the way a dog shakes his favourite chew toy. Then, he threw him to the ground, growling, "Get the hell out of here!"

He stood intimidatingly over the skinny man, kicking him in the side for good measure. The man yelped, staggered off the ground and ran off through the parking lot.

The large man looked down at me, "Are you all right, child?" he said kindly. "Did he hurt you?" he held out his hand to me. I reached up and took it with my uninjured arm, allowing him to help me to a standing position.

He gently took my chin in his hand, turning my face as he assessed me critically. "You're going to have quite the shiner soon." He shook his head sympathetically," You have to be careful in places like this, sweetheart, so many dangerous people who won't think anything of hurting a kid to score some quick cash."

"Thank you," I whimpered, my whole body tense with shooting pain and my right eye rapidly swelling closed.

A familiar girl came running up. "Dad! Oh my God, Dad!" she said breathlessly. She looked at me. "Alyson, are you alright?" It was Meg. "I saw what happened across the parking lot. You're so lucky my Dad was here!"

"You've met?" he asked.

"She gave me some toilet paper in the bathroom," Meg said.

"I see." he looked at me. "I'm Zeke," he held out his hand.

"Hi." I said, "Uh, I'm Alyson Winchester." I shook his hand. For a moment it almost looked like he smiled when I said my name, but my eyes were watering with the pain and I dismissed it.

"Where's your family?" he asked, "I want to make sure you get to them safely."

"Oh, they're not...um, I'm traveling alone." I said. "I'm, um, going to meet my...uncle in Iowa," I stuttered, internally rolling my eyes. I had to get a better cover story if I was going to be on the road from now on.

"Well, then I think you should eat with us. We were just about to get some breakfast, weren't we, Meg?" he looked at her, with a bright smile.

"Okay, sure," I said hesitantly, with a small smile of my own. For the first time since I'd left my brothers and turned my back on my old life, I was filled with a sense of hopeful anticipation for the future.

We went into the restaurant and sat at a table, Zeke immediately asking our waitress for some Tylenol and a bag of ice for my face. Neither of my new companions asked me any questions about myself at first and I became increasingly more comfortable with them as they chatted away about their lives. They were travelling right now because Zeke was making his annual check on some of his properties. He was an investment banker and owned several in this state and the next. Meg was only a couple of years older than me and she travelled with her father whenever he went out on the road.

We had almost finished with our meals when the conversation finally lulled. Zeke turned to me. "So…," he started, "We've talked your ear off, now tell us a little bit about yourself."

"Oh. I, uh..." I felt my face get red. I didn't know what to say.

"You're running away from something, aren't you?" Meg asked knowingly, a smile playing on her lips. "I can tell. It's ok, you can talk to us."

"Uh, yeah," I said uncomfortably.

"Do you want to tell us from what?" Zeke asked.

I could understand their curiosity. If I were them, I'd probably want to make sure I wasn't on the run from the cops too. I paused, picking up the makeshift icepack and pressing it to my face again.

"My, uh, family...doesn't understand me... or appreciate me," I finally replied, my eyes suddenly filling with embarrassing tears. Thinking about Sam, Dean and my Dad filled me with an unexpected overwhelming longing to see them. Then I remembered Sam yelling at me and how scared I had been when he took his belt off. Dean's glowering face and Dad's constant yelling entered my mind next and my heart hardened.

Meg put her hand on mine, and my sad feelings went away.

"Why don't you come and stay with us for a while?" she said. "Dad's pretty much done all his inspections and we've got a huge house with a pool, a tennis court and even a pond! You and I are about the same size. You can wear some of my clothes. It'll be like one long sleepover!" she seemed really excited.

I looked over at Zeke, who smiled in agreement.

"Okay," I agreed. "Thanks. Maybe just for a little while, you know, while I heal up." I winced when smiling sent a pain up the right side of my face. "I don't want to have to explain, uh, today to my uncle…."

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Dean took a deep breath and dialled the number he'd been dreading. His father's exhausted, gruff voice answered, "Yeah?"

"Dad," Dean said nervously. "There's a problem."

"What is it, Dean?" John Winchester asked.

"Aly's run away."

"WHAT?!" John roared, loud enough that Sam heard him on the other side of the hotel room.

Dean winced.

"She snuck out in the middle of the night." Dean told his father.

"What the hell, Dean? How? Weren't you watching her? Haven't you and Sam been taking turns watching her day and night?"

"Well, yeah, but it's been a rough couple of days. We're exhausted, Dad, and I guess...I guess we just let our guard down because we're close to Sioux Falls..."

"Obviously you weren't thinking at all or this wouldn't have happened! Jesus, Dean!" John Winchester's voice was thick with disapproval. "Do you have any idea where she could have gone?"

"Uh, no." Dean said. "Listen, do you have any recent pictures of her that you could send to me? Sam's got a couple on his phone, but they're crap. We need one to show around when we start looking for her."

"Oh, Christ, do I need to come out there and search for her myself? Where are you?"

"No, Dad, it'll be fine-" Dean started, but John spoke over him. "Tell me where you are? I can be packed and on the road in half an hour."

"Dad-"

"You and Sam are going to need help and I can't just sit here at Bobby's when I know that my little girl is out there somewhere!" John's voice shook for a moment. "We can't let him get her, Dean. She can't go through another experience like she did before!"

Dean sighed as guilt suffused him. Alyson was his baby sister and he was supposed to have watched out for and protected her. But he had screwed up royally; if something happened to her, it would be his fault.

"We're at the Super 8 off I-136 in Rock Port, Missouri," Dean said, finally.

"All right. Let me get packed up and I'll get on the road."

"Dad, send a photo first." Dean said. "That way we can start showing it..."

"Okay, Dean," John said gruffly. "I'm sending it now."

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Zeke and Meg's house wasn't quite a mansion, but it was enormous. It looked like one of those houses that you see in a magazine about beautiful country homes or something. The kitchen, which opened out into a formal dining room via an open plan design, was both breathtaking and inviting. A huge library, which would have impressed even Sam, lead to a solarium that contained a miniature garden and two large, antique chaise lounges; I had no doubt it would become a place of refuge for me for as long as I stayed here. A media room, complete with pool table, several large flat screen tvs, a state of the art sound system and a full bar along one wall, filled the basement.

Two cooks, three housekeepers and a chauffeur named James headed up the 20 strong staff who ran the house. Zeke owned a number of cars including a black Hummer and a fancy-looking sports car which two gardeners were hosing off when we first pulled up. The in-ground pool was of course, an infinity, and had two hot tubs attached to it. The 'backyard' was more like a park, large and immaculately sculpted with a gazebo and even a maze off to one side.

Unsurprisingly, Meg had a bedroom large enough to house four of any of my previous hotel rooms. She offered me my choice of three others.

"Pick the one you like best," she'd said. I chose one that was 2 doors down from hers. It had an antique bedroom set; a wooden four-poster bed with matching bureau, vanity table and bench. They were painted white with little periwinkle blue flowers. The wallpaper was textured and tastefully cream-coloured, with matching curtains that were dotted with large periwinkles all over them.

"The flower room," she said with amusement in her voice. "I never would have taken you for a girly- girl."

"Me neither, but I always wanted a room like this when I was younger", I said, realizing that I had, in fact, wanted a room like that, with ultra girly furniture and decorations. We had always had to make do with pre-furnished houses or apartments, and they usually had old beat up furniture in every room with nothing vaguely feminine anywhere.

Meg showed me her walk in closet and insisted I try on some of her clothes. I did, but I felt awkward wearing them. She had a definite sense of style, favoring close-cut blouses and tight jeans, whereas I didn't really have much fashion sense at all. I wore what was comfortable. It made me wish I had brought one of Sam's hoodies. I liked wearing them because they were usually worn in and soft and more importantly, smelled like him.

"Look at this!" She pulled out a beautiful leather jacket that was dark blue. "Try this on."

It fit me like a glove and looked really expensive. The inside satin lining was soft and I hugged it to myself, enjoying the feel of it on my skin.

"It looks great on you! Keep it!" she said enthusiastically.

"Oh, no, I can't. Really," I protested. "I'll bet it was expensive."

She shrugged. "It's you," she said simply. "You should keep it."

"Thank you," I said warmly, hugging her. It really was a wonderful jacket and her easy generosity was becoming familiar.

Dinner was like something from a fancy restaurant. Zeke even let us have wine. I tried it but it tasted really strong and I didn't like it. "You'd probably like something fruitier," Meg said. "This is kinda dry."

I felt a little nervous when I initially sat at the table and saw the wine already poured and waiting for the three of us. Because of the recent fallout surrounding beer in the impala, I couldn't help but worry that Meg and I would somehow get in trouble even though we hadn't done it. But Zeke didn't say anything and even topped up Meg's glass a few times. Dad had been strict about stuff like underage drinking and smoking; something that both my brothers, and I guess now I had learned the hard way. Guess not all parents were like that.

We had chocolate mousse for dessert served in obviously expensive little crystal bowls and I flinched every time my spoon clinked loudly against the sides. Afterwards, we went down to the media room and Meg picked out a movie. Zeke sat with us and I listened as they made funny comments about the movie as we watched. It wasn't long before I started to feel tired though, the events of this seemingly never-ending day finally catching up with me.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." I yawned, wincing as the pain in my face reignited. "I'm so grateful for everything you've both done for me." I stood up, stretching a little.

They both wished me a goodnight, Meg hugging me before I trekked tiredly upstairs to my new room. I found my backpack sat beside the bureau and I unzipped it and rooted through the clothing.

I found what I was looking for quickly; one of Sam's old t-shirts that I usually slept in. I sat on the bed and held it up to my nose, breathing in his scent. Again, I was overcome with a feeling of loss and a desperate need to see him, Dean and Dad. Tears soon dripped down my nose and I brushed them away, sniffling noisily.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" I called, hoping my crying wouldn't be too obvious.

Meg came in holding something. "I have something else for you." she said with a grin. "A girly nightgown to match your girly room." She handed me a knee length nightgown that had little flowers all over it, with lace edging on the hem and sleeves. There was also a matching robe, pretty and soft.

"Thank you, but I have this," I showed her Sam's shirt.

"What do you want to wear that old thing for?" she asked. "Wear the nightgown. I know it's a bit old-fashioned but somehow, it's you."

"Well, okay. Thanks," I said, stuffing Sam's t shirt back into my backpack. She left soon after and I got changed and climbed into bed.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

In the morning, there was a huge breakfast spread laid out on the table.

"Wow!" I said. "This is amazing!" There were waffles, sausage and bacon, fresh fruit, biscuits and both scrambled and fried eggs. I couldn't help stuffing myself, it was all so delicious. When I finally couldn't eat another bite, I stood up and picked up my plate.

"What are you doing?" asked Meg.

"Clearing my plate." I answered, grabbing my glass too.

"Don't bother, Clara will get it." Zeke said. "That's what she's here for."

"Oh," I sat down. This kind of life was going to take some getting used to.

"So today's supposed to be a scorcher and I think we should hang by the pool after breakfast," Meg said.

"I don't have a bathing suit," I replied.

"Well, we could buy you one," she said.

"Really, I can't accept that," I said. "You've done so much already."

"Listen, Alyson," Zeke said, "We really want you to feel at home here. You seem so sad and we just want to help you out. You can't possibly have enough to wear in that little backpack of yours, unless you're Mary Poppins….""

"Wow, really old kiddy reference, Dad!" Meg slapped her father's arm good-naturedly.

Zeke grinned at his daughter and then turned back to me, "Let me take you out and get you some new clothes. Meg is great at putting together a wardrobe."

"Um, okay." I said, still feeling uncertain.

"How about this? We'll take you out and if you still feel uncomfortable, I can always keep anything you get for myself! It's a win-win!" Meg laughed again and Zeke shook his head at her in amusement.

We went to one of the upscale department stores in a mall nearby; the type I would never be able to shop in because of the outrageous prices. Meg walked me through the clothing aisles, picking things off the racks and holding them up to me.

"Hmm..." she'd say, "Not your color."

I felt a little like a living doll that she was playing dress-up with but it was fun to go shopping with a girlfriend like a normal teenager. And trying on all these new clothes and having her tell me how good I looked, was fun. Meg kept up a constant stream of effortless chatter and funny comments, helping time to pass easily.

We met up with Zeke a few hours later near the mall entrance and he handed me a bag.

"What's this?' I asked.

"Got you an ipod and earbuds as a 'Welcome to our Home' present."

"Oh wow, thank you!" I exclaimed. I had never had any of the hand held games or electronics that were so popular, as we couldn't afford them.

He drove us to a restaurant for lunch and Meg ordered shrimp cocktail. I had never had it before. I tried one of hers and I liked it, so they let me order one too. It was nice to be able to order whatever I wanted and not have to worry about the cost.

During the meal, I sat quietly listening to the easy-going banter between father and daughter, a small smile playing on my lips. This. This was what it was like to have a father who loved his daughter and accepted her for who she was. Meg had bought a huge number of expensive clothes for herself while we were shopping and he hadn't even asked her about it. I felt like I couldn't even buy a pack of gum from the corner store without my brothers' or father's say so. And he actually listened to her when she spoke, asking her questions and genuinely seeming interested in what she had to say. If I wasn't being yelled at for breathing too loudly, I was being warned against having any opinions about any and all things going on in my family's lives. As long as I stayed at home, cooked their food and did their laundry like a good little girl, I was the perfect daughter. As soon as I asserted any independence, I was summarily shut down and commanded to do as I was told. My very existence was being stifled by the Winchester men and although I had been somewhat homesick yesterday, today those feelings were like a distant memory. These were the kind of people I had always wanted my family to be and I didn't want to squander this amazing opportunity being offered to me.

Meg laughed loudly as she recounted one of the more amusing stories from the day's shopping spree and I happily joined in. I wasn't altogether sure yet, but maybe, just maybe, this could be home.

 **Author's Note: I forgot to mention again that delacre is co-author and editor and wordsmith! And a huge Thank You to all of you who have left reviews!**


	14. Chapter 14

**CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains under-age drinking of alcohol.**

 **delacre is co-author, editor, and wordsmith!**

"Agents Plant and Page. We have an appointment with the manager….uh,Hannah." Dean smiled warmly at the pretty young bank teller as he read her name tag.

Sam rolled his eyes, flashing his F.B.I. badge as Dean did the same. Blushing furiously, she led them off to the office area to wait at the manager's desk.

"He'll….he'll be with you in a minute," she stuttered, walking backward and tripping around the chair that she had just pulled out for Dean.

Sam sighed, pulling out the second chair for himself as he stared at the exchange with an annoyed look.

Dean gave Hannah one last cocky grin as she stumbled back to her desk. Turning to see Sam's sour look, he shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "What?"

Whatever scathing remark Sam had planned to say died on his lips as a short balding man came from an adjoining office to greet them. He held out his hand, which Sam shook in greeting. "Bill Smith, what can I do for you?"

Dean glanced at Sam. "I'm Agent Plant, this is Agent Page." he answered, "We're investigating-"

"Did you boys join the academy right out of high school?" the manager interrupted, staring between the two of them, "You both look like you're fresh from the farm!"

"We were both fast-tracked through the academy," Dean said, with a shrug of his shoulder. "As I was saying, we're investigating a child abduction that occurred last night and we need to take a look at the ATM security-cam footage."

The manager looked appalled. "A child abduction? I didn't hear anything about an Amber Alert on the news. And we're such a small town, something like that would be everywhere."

"The parents want it kept quiet right now." Sam replied, quickly.

Mr. Smith scoffed. "That's a new one. Since when do they tell you boys how to do your job? What is it, a custody battle? Well, Agents, I'm sorry, but you're going to need a warrant."

"If we could just-" Dean started, but again Bob interrupted, spreading his hands.

"Sorry, no can do, gentlemen. New federal bank regulations. Has to do with privacy laws or something."

"Now, wait a min….."

"Thank you, Sir," Sam said, cutting off a frustrated Dean. He led him away from the manager and out of the bank.

Dean kicked at the cement pillar at the bank's entrance as they made their way back to the hotel across the street. "Dammit! Federal bank regulations, my ass!"

"I'm going to call Ash and see if he can hack into the ATM camera feed," Sam sought to stave off Dean's tirade.

"Fine," Dean huffed, "Sounds like a plan." He opened the door to their room, immediately taking some clothes to the bathroom to change.

He emerged soon after. "Look, I'm going crazy waiting around. I'll go get us something to eat."

He didn't wait to hear Sam's reply as he walked out to the parking lot. Dean wasn't used to feeling this helpless or this scared. Sure, there was always a hint of fear in the pit of your stomach in this business; that was the job after all. But this was different. This was family. His little, baby sister. Sure Aly had been a monumental pain in all their asses of late but she had also been through so much too. More than she should have on his watch.

After sharing the news with John earlier, he and Sam had taken to pounding the pavement, showing Aly's photo to first fellow hotel guests and then around the town; at the local supermarket, pharmacy, bus station and medical clinic. Nothing. That was what they had gotten out of that 5 hour exercise and then, as they were about to head to the one restaurant in this burb, Sam had noticed the ATM across the street and had come up with their first and only lead.

Now, they had stalled again. Of course, if anyone could help them with this red-tape techno crap, it would be Ash. Dean assumed that Sam was calling the Roadhouse as he got into the impala and sped away. He was only going a few miles down Main Street to the one diner in this place but sitting behind Baby's wheel always seemed to make things better.

Dean idly drummed his fingers to AC/DC as he pulled up at Lucky's. He sighed heavily as he tried to calm himself down; he was thrumming with adrenaline and nervous anticipation. Dean was happy to leave the self-analysis at that. If he delved any deeper, the overwhelming guilt would kick in. Ever since she'd been born, Aly had been the Winchester men's whole world. It had been so much easier to protect her when she was little, when all she'd wanted to do was please them and the occasional forbidden chocolate bar was enough to solve all of her problems. He supposed it was inevitable; the dawn of the teenaged years meant that simplicity would no longer cut it. He shook his head as he climbed out of the car and entered the diner. He had really fucked this one up. His whole life had been dedicated to one inalienable truth; it was his job to keep Aly and Sammy safe and he had ROYALLY fucked this one up.

They had never been this close to catching the demon before and Aly had kept pushing the boundaries with her behavior at a time when they had all been on edge. He had been supremely frustrated at being benched at Calvin's and had taken it out on her. Clearly, even though she'd been wrong to act like a disrespectful brat, he'd been too hard on her. That had hurt her feelings; he could always see it on her face, no matter how much she tried to hide it. He had hurt her and the God-damned joke of it was, at the time, he hadn't cared. He had just wanted to get the hell out of Calvin's house and back on the road.

"Well, maybe you deserve to feel guilty, shithead," he said to himself. "You pushed her away and now she's off God knows where. You need to get off your ass and do something, because she's been gone for almost 24 hrs and you've got shit!"

Dean grabbed the pizza and beers with a quick thanks to the waitress. He dumped them on the bench seat next to him and revved the engine. He'd been a jerk to her and had driven her away. They had to find her. If something bad happened, he didn't know if he would be able to live with himself.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Dean was pounding on the hotel room door, food in hand, when he heard the rumble of his father's Sierra Grande. Turning, he watched it park next to the Impala as Sam finally swung the door open.

Dean shoved past him giving him an annoyed bitchface that rivalled his own. "What took you so long? And I'd better not hear the words "porn" and "hand" in your explanation."

Sam refused to dignify that with a response as his father emerged from the truck with Bobby in tow.

"Bobby," he said, hugging the man as he entered the room, "We didn't know you were coming."

"Well, I couldn't just sit around waitin' to hear from you... y'all are like family to me and I love that kid too. I figured strength in numbers right now while we're looking for her."

He hugged Dean, as the brothers turned to John, who had yet to utter a word. The look on the eldest Winchester's face made it seem like he had plenty to say though, and Sam braced for the worst.

Dean, hoping to head off the inevitable explosion, stepped forward ready to apportion all the blame to himself as was his wont. "Listen, Dad, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for-"

John didn't make him wait long. "You didn't mean for this to happen? What kind of a bullshit excuse is that? Since when do you not follow orders? In case you forgot, I told you to watch her day and night! You didn't do your job, Dean, and now your little sister is out there alone, vulnerable and defenseless! What were you thinking?"

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and then swallowed thickly. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he looked at his father, "Like I said, we all had a rough couple of days and we were taking a break…"

"So you let your guard down! Wasn't that one of the first things I taught you, to never let your guard down? Are you blind too? How was your sister able to sneak out of the same room that you were in?"

"And you," he turned to Sam next, "Where the hell were you? You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her too!"

The three stared at each other in silence, John practically heaving with effort as he tried to get himself under control. After a few minutes, he asked in an even tone, "Did she leave a note or do you at least have any idea where she could have gone?"

"Uh, no sir." Dean said, uneasily.

"Why the hell not? Haven't you made any progress since we talked this morning?"

Dean cleared his throat and glanced at Sam. "We talked to some of the guests in the hotel, but nobody saw anything 'cause she likely left in the middle of the night."

John sighed angrily.

"We went to the bank across the street and tried to get the surveillance footage from the ATM, but they said we needed a warrant," Sam interjected, "We decided to call Ash over at Harvelle's and he's hacking through their security as we speak. He'll get back to us ASAP with the camera feed."

"Well, we're wasting time standing around here," John said gruffly. He pointed at Dean, "You know, if anything happens to her, it'll be your fault."

"Dad-" Dean cried helplessly, stunned by his father's bluntness.

"Look, Dad, it was my fault!" Sam said loudly, "So lay off Dean!"

John was clearly aggravated as he turned his attention to Sam. "Report," he said, tersely.

Sam took a deep breath. "Things didn't go so well with the home-schooling. She fought me about it the whole time, and I just got more frustrated and kept coming down harder and harder on her. I've been thinking about it since she left... I…I realized that I was upset because of my own issues. I want her to go to college. She's so smart, and it seemed like she wasn't taking any of it seriously. We know she'll never be a hunter…" he paused, then tried again, "You know what was happening with me that month I left a few years ago? To me, it seemed like she was just throwing away her chance at a future full of all the opportunities that we'll never have." He looked over at Dean as he said this.

Then he quietly added, "I didn't realize just how hard on her I was being. She was just rebelling against it. We were all in such close quarters and it got the best of us. Of me." Sam swallowed uneasily. "She and I had a-a- blow up right before we left."

"What does that mean?" John asked, his voice tight.

"We'd been arguing about her half-assing her homework and she threw a cup of coffee at the wall. It got all over the textbooks and when she said 'fuck this', I just lost it because I had warned her about never being that disrespectful again so…. I, uh, spanked her with my belt." Unable to look his father in the eye any longer, he stared at the ground, the guilt and sorrow clearly etched on his face.

"You what?" John asked in amazement. "Sam, you rarely ever spank her at all. I just can't believe…"

Sam looked up, his face miserable. "I told you, things got a little intense for us and I lost it. It's my fault she ran away, Dad, so if you want to blame anyone, don't blame Dean. Blame me! I drove her away!"

With tears streaming down his face, Sam silently pleaded for his father's forgiveness. Soon he was in Dean's arms, his older brother grabbing him and holding him tightly against his shoulder. The look on his face clearly warned John against saying another word.

John stood there looking at them for a long moment. He looked at Bobby who had remained completely silent through the entire exchange and pinched the bridge of his nose. With a heavy sigh, he turned to walk out of the room, muttering, "I need a drink."

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Bobby chased after John who was going out in search of a bar.

Bobby called after him angrily. "John, you are a damn fine hunter, but when it comes to your kids, you are the biggest idjit!" he growled.

"What do you mean?" John asked, defensively.

"This whole thing could have been avoided if you'd just been up front with Aly from the get-go. Yeah, she ain't a hunter, but ya didn't have to keep her out of the loop for everything."

"You know how sensitive she is. She's just a little girl, Bobby, I didn't want to scare her."

"She ain't been little for a few years now, Winchester. If you had just told her what was going on with that demon, why you were all being targeted, she wouldn't have gotten in all that trouble and run off like that. She can learn about the life without having to _be_ in the life. Hell, you said she had the makings of a good researcher and ya know she's smart…what happened to Sam training her to do research?"

"When Sam started hunting with me," John said, "she was still young and she got angry because I took him away from her. That's when things started to go downhill. She didn't want to learn anymore."

Bobby shook his head, "It didn't help much either when you started droppin' her off with people all summer long almost every year. You yourself just said she's sensitive, and you left her with strangers like she was a bag of dirty laundry you couldn't be bothered with. How did ya expect that would make her feel? No wonder she didn't want to learn about hunting or researching anymore."

"Are you saying this is my fault?" John stepped forward, fixing angry eyes on Bobby. The other man stared him down, not intimidated by his hunter's stance.

"For the most part, yes!" Bobby told him. "Sure Sam and Dean should have been watching her. That kid's always getting into stuff that she shouldn't and she's more stubborn than a mule when she gets her back up. Twenty bucks if you can figure out where she gets that from? But she's got every right to be pissed off at you. Hell, all three of them do! And you'd better find some way to make amends to all of them or Aly won't be the only one who turns her back on you for good.

Those boys do everything you tell them. Yeah, you were able to mold them into good little soldiers but they're still just boys and they need their father too. When your military crap didn't work with her, you just walked away. I know you two had a good relationship when she was just a pup, John, and you could again. You're the adult here, you've got to meet her halfway. Hell, more than halfway! You've got to change how you relate to her. She ain't Dean and she ain't Sam and they ain't her Dad. If she gets taken by the demon again, who knows how many more lies he'll be filling her head with? He's done it before and we all know how that turned out. If he's got her, John, and she survives, she may not want anything to do with you. Can't say as I blame her."

The realization that his daughter could have been captured by Azazel, and that he might never see her again, hit John hard again at that moment. Bobby's words were like a knife straight to his heart. He tried to prevent the tears from coming to his eyes and fought the fear that was rising in his chest.

"Jesus, Bobby, what am I going to do?" he said hoarsely. "How in the hell are we going to find her before he does?"

"Well, you've got Sam and Dean working on it; those boys are excellent trackers. And we should call in other hunters for help. We need as many people out there looking for her as possible," Bobby took off his cap, rubbed his forehead and resettled it on his head. "And I think it would be a good idea to give Missouri a holler too. She hasn't had much luck finding any rituals to help protect Aly yet but maybe she can put her feelers out and see if she can sense anything. I got the impression that they've made a good connection with each other." Bobby leaned forward and looked at his friend earnestly.

"Think about what I've said, John. You have to change, for her and for those boys. What you just did to Sam and especially to Dean…I've never been so ashamed of anyone in all my life. And no matter what happens, when Aly comes back to you, she's gonna be messed up. Kids don't run away from their family 'cause they're happy. There's problems been brewing for a while, and you need to stop being some hardass drill sergeant and just be her father. She. Needs. Her. Father, John!"

John sighed. "You're right, Bobby. I've got to get my shit together. For her. For all of them."

He looked back at the hotel door and shook his head. "I'm going to go talk to the boys, give us a minute?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, "I'm gonna go get a room. I'll see you in a few."

John ran his hand through his short hair, a gesture reminiscent of Dean, and walked back to the room.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

"Look up," Meg said to me. She brought the mascara wand up to my eye again and I flinched. She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat.

"Sorry!" I said. "I just can't get used to someone else getting that close to my eyes. Let me try it, okay?"

She sighed and gave me a fake pout. "I didn't want you to see everything until I was finished."

I took the wand from her, "Wasn't the mascara the last thing you were going to do, anyway?"

Meg was taking me to a party and she wanted both of us to look good. I had no experience with makeup so she was only too happy to "put on my face" for me.

"Fine. Let me put some lipstick on you and then I'll be done." she said. "Open your mouth like this." She demonstrated and I followed suit. When she was finished, she fussed with my eye shadow for a moment and then said, "Okay, you can look. And put on that mascara."

I stood up and turned around to face the mirror. "Wow!" I said, barely recognizing myself. "I look like I'm 21."

She hugged my shoulder. "It's called a smoky eye, isn't it great? I just learned how to do it recently."

"You're really good at it," I said with awe.

"All right, let me see you put on the mascara," she said. I opened the tube and applied it like she'd tried to do.

"Well, I think we're as ready as we'll ever be," she nodded approvingly, "Let's go."

We gathered our clutches and then I followed her downstairs.

Zeke was in the kitchen, drinking some sort of alcohol from a crystal shotglass. Seeing the amber liquid made me think of my Dad; he liked to have a glass of whiskey or scotch in the evenings sometimes. It made me feel a pang of regret for a moment, but then Meg pushed me forward and it was gone.

"Here she is!" she exclaimed, excitedly. Zeke looked up from the bunch of papers he was flipping through. He smiled broadly at me. "Well, don't you look amazing!" he said.

"Thanks!" I couldn't help but smile. "I FEEL amazing!"

"You two have fun," he said.

"Don't wait up, Dad," Meg said, walking over to kiss his cheek.

I followed her out to the car and got in. We picked up Nicole and another girl, Jill, on the way.

"This is going to be so exciting!" Nicole pounded on the seat. "I can't wait to see all those hot college boys!"

"College boys?" I looked over and asked. Meg glanced at me. "That's the only kind of party worth going to, babe. High school parties are so lame!"

The other girls laughed. Meg turned on the radio and for the rest of drive, they all sang along with the music. I was a little nervous; I'd never been to a party like this. If college-aged kids were there, then there was bound to be alcohol too. Zeke obviously didn't mind us drinking at home but this was a whole other ball game.

When we finally got to the frat house, Meg made a beeline for the guy who'd invited her, Pete. She introduced us and he led us into the kitchen.

"What do you want?" he asked. "The keg is on the back porch and my buddy Dave here is making mixed drinks. The frozen strawberry daiquiris have been popular but we ran outta ice. Sent Shawn on a run. He'll be back in a few."

"I want some beer," Nicole piped up.

"Alyson, what do you want?" Meg asked me.

"I don't like beer," I said, remembering how gross it had tasted.

She laughed. "Oh come on, you've barely ever had any. Try some." She looked at Pete. "Bring us a couple a cups from the keg."

Pete disappeared and then came back a few minutes later with two red Solo cups. He handed one to me.

"Bottoms up!" Meg said, managing to guzzle most of hers in one go.

I took a swallow and tried not to cough. Yeah, it still tasted gross.

Meg laughed at me. "You need to try something else. Something that doesn't taste like alcohol."

"Alyson is new to all this," she told Pete. "She's an innocent little thing. No wild experiences, YET!

Pete leaned over and said something to Dave as Meg and the other girls laughed. We watched as Dave poured liquid from a couple different bottles into a glass and then handed it to me. It was a beautiful ombre color; deep red in the bottom with graduating colors that reached the orange juice on top.

"It's really pretty!" I said.

"Just drink it, silly!" Meg laughed again.

"It's called a Tequila sunrise," Pete told me.

I tried it. It had a bitter aftertaste initially, but then the orange juice quickly took over and erased that.

I pulled Meg to the side. "Isn't your dad going to be upset about all this? The boys, the drinking...?"

She shook her head adamantly. "As long as I'm open about it, responsible and don't get arrested," she paused dramatically, "he doesn't care. So don't worry about it. Come on! Loosen up, already!"

I couldn't help but worry about it though; memories of the 'beer-in-the-impala' debacle and of the times that Dad had caught my then underage brothers drinking, were fresh in my mind. I didn't think Zeke would be upset like Dad had been, but the old conditioning was still there. By the time I was halfway through the second sunrise however, that doubt melted away.

Nicole went off for a few minutes while we were all drinking and making small talk. She soon came back with a lit cigarette in one hand and a pack in the other.

Meg took one and lit it up. They both turned to look at me expectantly.

I shook my head. "No thanks. Not interested."

More memories assailed me. Three years ago I had been left at Ellen's Roadhouse yet again. My entire family had been gone for almost two months. Long enough for me to grow a gigantic chip on my shoulder. To say that I'd been angry with my Dad by that point, was an understatement. To punish him, I had thrown my energy into getting into as much trouble as possible. Ellen had been practically at her wit's end. Unfortunately for me, the Winchester men had come back from the hunt early, and Dean had caught me smoking a cigarette from the half-pack I had found on the floor of the bar. Sitting had not been comfortable for a few days after the ensuing confrontation with both he and Dad.

Dave handed me a tall glass with pink liquid in it. "Frozen strawberry daiquiri for you, ma'am," he said.

I took a sip. "Oh wow, this is really good."

It was like a strawberry slushie and I could barely taste the alcohol. Not that I was minding it. By now, my head was feeling 'floaty' and the world seemed a little tilted on its axis. Everything was suddenly funny. Meg and Nicole pulled me onto the back deck where there was loud music playing. A large group of people were there dancing and we joined in.

After a few songs, Meg shouted, "I'm thirsty! Let's get more drinks!"

I followed her over to the keg and she handed me a cup of beer. I found I didn't mind the taste so much anymore. She leaned over to me and held a cigarette up to my mouth. "Go on, it won't kill you!"

"The first one won't!" Nicole said, and they laughed. She put it between my lips and I inhaled. It burned my lungs and made me cough so hard my eyes watered. They laughed at me, Nicole slapping me on the back as I tried to catch my breath. Meg handed it to me and I took a couple more drags of the cigarette until I felt dizzy. It was kinda fun. We danced some more and then two really cute guys started dancing with Nicole and Meg. Nicole eventually disappeared with one of them.

Meg put her arm around my shoulders, as we watched them walk off, "Having fun yet?"

"Yeah, tish…thish…this is pretty cool." I said. She looked at me, closely. "Alyson, I do believe that you are drunk," she said.

She raised her cup in the air and yelled, "Here's to the kid's first time getting smashed!"

Several people whooped and laughed. She got me another cup and cigarette and I laughed too, accepting both.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

The rest of the evening went by in a blur and I had no idea how we'd gotten home. I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and I could barely move. The light hurt my eyes and my mouth was as dry as the desert.

I heard the door open and I rolled over, wincing as I did so.

Meg walked over to the bed looking completely unfazed by last night.

"How are you?" she asked, with a knowing smile.

I groaned and she laughed. "Hammered for the first time last night, first hangover this morning. Good job!"

She kissed my forehead. When I winced she said, "Poor baby! You're such a lightweight! Let's go downstairs. You're probably dehydrated but Dad's 'hair of the dog' will cure all that ails you. "

"I have a migraine!" I whined.

She pulled on my arm. "Come on," she said, "Try the drink, eat some toast and have some coffee. It'll make you feel better, I promise."

Sighing, I sat up slowly and followed her downstairs to the kitchen.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Dean stared through the threadbare, checkered curtains of the motel room at what was obviously a heated argument between his father and Bobby. Sam was in the bathroom getting ahold of himself after one of the worst Winchester cage matches ever. Dean could remember a million other times when intense situations had put the three of them at odds. Sometimes, they couldn't seem to agree on anything; how to stake out the bad guys, which burger joint to stop at on the road, how best to restore the rear left panel of the Impala after it had been shot full of bullet holes…well, to be honest, Sam had never had much of an opinion about that last one, but you get the point.

Such conflicts were usually resolved with angry shouting matches, mostly between Sam and Dad. Dean got the lovely task of playing mediator. Usually, his success could be boiled down to two sure-fire solutions; placating his father and reminding Sammy that it was their responsibility to follow orders and get the job done. Sam often took off to do research after a blow-up (translation: slunk off to the library to lick his wounds) while their father retraced already discarded leads to make sure one of his sons hadn't missed anything (read: found the nearest bar to help drink away his pain).

What had just happened was unprecedented. While their father's barking and blustering was almost always loudest about things related to hunting, out and out psychological warfare was unheard of. Dean could tolerate a lot, but when your DNA had been engineered to protect your younger siblings against the world, even your father could be the enemy.

Dean cocked his head as he heard the shower stop, indicating that Sam would soon be coming out of the bathroom. Knowing that he didn't want to be caught spying, he turned away from the window and went to sit on the couch. He checked his phone and then Sammy's, hoping that Ash might have gotten back to them. With no new messages, he sighed and resisted the urge to throw both of them across the room. He considered what he should do now; he could watch television though he doubted he'd be able to concentrate or he could eat the now room temperature pizza. He settled on opening a beer and putting his feet up on the coffee table.

Sam came out a few minutes later, towel drying his hair with a plume of steam in his wake.

"Geez, Sam! Leave a little hot water for the rest of us. I know that lady conditioner you like needs a good steam but still…."

A completely soaked towel suddenly landed in his face, and with an unmanly shriek, he threw it to the ground in disgust.

"OMG, cooties!" Dean yelled, his face a picture of revulsion.

Sam, managing to simultaneously look smug while scowling, hissed, "Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

"I see that your name-calling repertoire is as sophisticated as ever…." John Winchester's attempt at a lame joke died on his lips as Sam and Dean turned to face him, both their faces wary.

He came fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. He sighed, putting down his messenger bag on the table opposite Sam's laptop. The boys were still silent and watching his every move as he turned to lean on the chair.

Dean was about to say anything to head off round two of the battle royale when Sam cut in, "Look Dad…"

John held up his hand, forestalling his son's latest plea of atonement. He stared at Sam for a minute and really looked at him for the first time in a while. He was 6' 4", with shaggy hair and bangs that made him look younger than his 22 years. His puppy dog eyes reflected pain, uncertainty and a pleading for understanding; all things he had seen in his children's eyes over the years. Suddenly the realization that, more often than not, he had been the cause of such looks hit him and he found himself advancing on Sam. Sam flinched as his father approached and it hurt John to see that reaction in his son. He grabbed hold of Sam and pulled him into his chest, hugging him tightly. He felt the boy's body shaking as he cried silently, John whispering nonsense words of comfort.

Dean stared open-mouthed before he realized how silly he looked. He closed it with an audible snap and looked away slightly embarrassed. Chick flick moments weren't exactly his forte and this scene was so beyond that, that he had no idea how to react. It seemed like a lifetime to Dean before Sam and his father pulled apart. John clapped Sam on the shoulder as the younger man rubbed at the tears on his face.

John gave Sam a sad smile and then cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, boys," he said hoarsely, the words seemingly stuck in his throat.

Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise. Had he just heard what he heard?

"I'm so sorry, Sam...Dean."

No, he wasn't hallucinating. John had just given an unsolicited apology to his adult sons and Dean knew for sure that the end of days was nigh. John Winchester had never been wrong in his life and for him to utter those words…..well, Dean didn't know what to think. His father wasn't done though…..

"Sometimes I forget how young you two are. How young you were when we lost Mary. And I forget how much I've put you all through trying to find Azazael all these years. I…I've lost sight of my other obligations and transferred too many of them onto the both of you. I...I'm sorry I made you feel sometimes that Aly was solely your responsibility. This wasn't all your fault. I should have seen what was going on with her too. When I look back on it, she's been angry and hurting for a while and it got worse after that bastard got hold of her. I should have been more open with her from the beginning about how serious this was. Maybe she would have listened and this whole nightmare never would have happened. Even when we got her back, I should have… I should've been nicer to her. She's 14 and she'd been kidnapped and tortured by a demon and the first thing I could think to do was talk to her about her punishment and then I was out the door onto the next mission."

He paused for a minute to gather his thoughts, his boys staring at him with mild shock on their faces. He suppressed the urge to smile, mostly because he was a little surprised at himself too. He couldn't recall a single time that he had been this candid with his sons and frankly, he wasn't sure he had it in himself to be so again. He had to get this out now. He had practically broken his sons and it was his job to fix them.

He started again.

"I think we all fell down on the job with Aly," he said, quietly. "It's like we forgot who she is. She's not like us, we know that. She's always been so sensitive and she's still so young. I…I think that she's got so much of your mother in her… I didn't know how relate to her sometimes. Obviously, that's no excuse. I'm her father and she needed me and I let her down. And I let you both down too. Dean, you didn't have the childhood Mary and I planned for you….I wanted so much more for you and circumstances, well you know what happened. I don't know what I would have done without you all these years. I'm grateful for the way you always stepped up with your siblings when I should have or couldn't. You've always been so strong, Dean. Stronger than me most of the time and I relied on you but I took advantage of you too. "

John took a large fortifying breath as Dean stared at him speechlessly with glistening eyes.

"Sam," John turned to his younger boy, "I owe you an apology too, son. You basically raised Aly from the time she could walk and you've understood her on a level that Dean and I can only dream of. You two are so alike...we haven't always had the easiest relationship you and I and I know I'm to blame for most of that. When you ran away from us years ago…that was one of the worst months of my life. I'm sorry you felt like you had to leave us. I never wanted that, I would NEVER want that. You're my baby boy and I was so scared for you being out there on your own knowing who and what was out there…"

John's voice became hoarse again and he turned away from Sam briefly, surreptitiously rubbing his eyes.

"Clearly I haven't learned from mistakes," he began a moment later, "because it's happening again with your sister. Bobby just reamed me out for being stubborn and stupid about all of you and he's right. I knew it deep down, of course I did, but without your mother…..it's been like a piece of my soul died too and I didn't know how to come back from that."

Sam glanced at Dean who had come to stand beside him as their father continued. It was clear that he was rapt with attention also. This was the first time John Winchester had truly shared such honesty about his feelings and both of them were unwilling to even make a sound lest it ended.

"I love you boys. I love Aly. You're the most important people in the world to me and I don't tell you that near enough. From now on, I'm going to try to show you that too. It won't be smooth sailing at first but I'm going to be the father you need me to be."

John approached his sons and without another word, grabbed both of them for a hug.

"We're going to find your sister and bring her home," he whispered to them, "and when we're all together again, we're going to sit down and talk all of this out as a family. It'll be alright, boys. I promise."

Sam and Dean, looking at each other with determination from within their father's arms, spoke silently with just a glance.

They weren't ever going to let John or Aly Winchester down again.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

I wandered downstairs to the media room with a bag of chips and a soda, having decided to vegetate in front of the t.v. for a while. Flipping through the multitude of channels reignited my headache almost immediately and I turned off the television in annoyance. I decided that perhaps fresh air would be better for me anyway, so I got up intending to explore the huge backyard. I went over to a door in the corner of the basement, assuming it led to the outside. It seemed stuck.

As I pulled on the doorknob again, one of the servants, Charles, came down the stairs.

"Oh no Miss, that door is not for you. That is Mr. Zeke's workshop."

He seemed very uncomfortable and I worried that my mistake was going to get him in trouble.

"Oh," I said apologetically, "I was trying to go outside."

"Come," he gestured to me.

I followed him upstairs and he led me down a small hallway that opened up into a warehouse-sized garage.

"Uh…this isn't…," I started to say but then Zeke stood up from the other side of a vintage Mustang.

"Hey there," he smiled, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

Not wanting to seem rude, I walked over to him. The hood of the car was open and there was a large, mobile tool bench next to it. The rolled up sleeves of his blue flannel revealed arms smudged with black grease and I had a flash of a memory of Dean and Dad working on the Impala.

It was something that they had done together ever since I was little. Dean had always been able to pick up the nuances of fixing car engines much quicker than Sam. Of course, Sam would also have preferred to read a book about the process rather than get his hands dirty. Guess it wasn't so surprising then.

Dean had tried to teach me about basic mechanics and the tools they used but there were just too many parts and too many tools to keep straight.

"I like to tinker; make sure the engine's working smoothly," Zeke said to me. "It's kinda my happy, Zen place. It relaxes me."

"Yeah," I said, "my father is a mechanic."

He leaned over the engine and reached in, glancing briefly at me, "Really?"

"Yeah and he taught my big brother too. Well, one of them."

He grunted as he tried to work a part loose. "How many brothers do you have?"

"Two," I replied, "Sam is 8 years older than me and Dean is 12 years older."

"That's a big age difference," he smiled as the nut finally came off, "Are you close to them?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said. I didn't know how to explain our relationships without going into too much detail about our family business. "They kinda helped raise me too 'cause my Dad has to travel sometimes."

He straightened and turned, tossing the wrench he was holding onto the table and picking up a screwdriver. He bent over the engine again. "Why does a mechanic need to travel?"

"Well, uh...," I thought fast, "he's also a hunter and a real outdoorsman, you know? Sometimes he likes to go camping while he's already out on the road too."

"So, I'm guessing that your brothers followed in his footsteps and you didn't? Is that part of why you're here and not at home with them?"

I felt floored that he was able to figure that out. "How- What makes you say that?"

He straightened up again and turned to me. "Well, being a mechanic is pretty stable jobwise and you look well fed and cared for. But what you aren't really saying, is that you've got three older men living with you who probably like to tell you what to do all the time. Since I've met you, you've seemed like a strong, independent young teenager. You're clearly a young lady who's very capable and you know your own mind. It doesn't surprise me in the least that you want to find your own way in the world. You're here with us, so you must be feeling stifled by them. Maybe because they expect you to follow in their footsteps…?"

He left the question hanging and again, I was stunned by his incredible insight.

"Are you sure you aren't reading my mind?" I asked, laughing. "How did you figure all that out?"

He shrugged. "Let me ask you this first before I answer that. Where is your mother in all of this?"

"Oh. She passed away when I was a baby," I lowered my head for a minute, quickly blinking away tears.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure you miss having a woman's influence in a family of men."

"To be honest, it's hard to miss something that you've never had in the first place," I shrugged, trying to keep my emotions under control.

'I guess not," he smiled at me. "You seem to have done pretty well up to this point."

"If you can call running away pretty good," I said sarcastically.

"Well, sometimes life can take strange and unexpected turns, am I right?"

"Yeah," I sighed. He seemed so understanding.

"My Dad and eldest brother don't pay much attention to me unless I've done something wrong. My other brother and I were close, but..." I didn't want to relive all the stuff that had happened at Calvin's. I closed my eyes for a moment.

"You and he have a fight?"

I looked at Zeke. "You could say that."

He nodded. "A falling out with a close sibling would make anyone want to escape for a while."

He turned towards the engine and leaned into it again. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you like. I think you're a great kid and your family doesn't know what they're missing."

"Thanks, Zeke," I said warmly, "You and Meg have been really nice to me. I don't know how I can ever thank you." I briefly considered being completely honest with him and telling him who my family really was but something stopped me. Would he be as understanding if he knew the truth?

He glanced at me again. "What do you say I get washed up and we take this baby out for a spin? I'll even teach you how to drive."

"Oh my God, no way?" I cried happily. "I've been wanting to learn how to drive for forever!"

"Great!" he stood up and closed the hood of the car, tossing the screwdriver on the bench. "Let me go wash my hands. I'll be right back."

He was about to walk away when I thought of something.

"Zeke?" I called after him.

He turned and looked at me expectantly.

"Before, you said that you would tell me how you figured all of this out, remember?"

Zeke smiled as he made his way back to me.

"Alyson," he replied, "Meg was 14 once too."

That was all he said. He touched my cheek with one of his fingers and there was such compassion and understanding in his eyes, that I couldn't help but feel warm inside.

He turned around again and I watched him go, his acceptance overwhelming me.

Why? Why couldn't John Winchester be more like Zeke?

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

"Hey, Missouri. It's Bobby Singer."

"I had a feeling you'd be callin', Mr. Singer. I haven't found anything to help little Aly, yet. I've been talkin' to other psychics and no one's been able to come up with any information."

She sounded apologetic. "I know this isn't a social call."

He gave an uncomfortable chuckle, "So you know, then? She's run away."

"I've been seein' signs that somethin' wasn't right but the circumstances weren't so clear."

"Well, the boys and Aly were hold up at Calvin's, as you know and from what I heard, sounds like Sam and Dean got cabin fever. Felt they were stuck there playin' nursemaids instead of hunting Azazael. She and Sam had some sort of blow-up right before they left to come to my place and then she snuck out in the middle of the night yesterday."

"Aly and Sam?" she asked in surprise, "Sam's always been closer…." she paused for a long moment. "Yes. Yes, I see it now. More than a blow-up, I'd say."

She made a tsk-ing sound. "Those boys! They came down way too hard on her!"

Bobby could just imagine Missouri wagging her finger at Sam and Dean in reprimand.

"I guess you want my help, then?" she asked him.

"Yeah. If you can try and reach out to her—it seemed like you two bonded at Calvin's."

"We did, Bobby. There's untapped reservoirs in that child, but it's all covered up with those negative feelings she carries around."

"We've got the boys trying to track down which direction she went but it's been slow going so far. Anything you can find out will help a lot."

"I'll see what I can do," she said briskly, "I'll be in touch, Bobby."

"Thank you, Missouri," he said gratefully.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

John Winchester walked back to their hotel room deeply satisfied. Dean was on the sofa, half an eye on the t.v., while Sam was sitting at the table by the door, his laptop open. He was on the phone talking to someone.

"That's great! Thanks a lot, man, I owe you one!" he hung up and looked expectantly at his Dad.

John said, "I talked to the night manager, Larry and …'convinced' him to be honest with me. After coming back from a hook-up with his girlfriend behind the hotel, he _did_ see a girl matching Aly's description walking north towards the highway. He thinks it was around 2:30 AM."

Dean, who had leaned forward in anticipation as John spoke, exhaled excitedly, "Finally! Now we're getting somewhere!"

"Here's more good news. I just talked to Ash. When he hacked into the ATM camera feed, he confirmed what we already know; that around 2:30am, Aly was seen walking in the direction of the I-136. He managed to hack into other cameras along that route and found some footage of a kid climbing into the back of a camper van. He's cleaning it up as we speak and then he'll send it ASAP," Sam told them.

Just then, his computer made a chiming noise. Sam opened up his mail and Dean and John went over to stand behind him.

The message was from Ash and Sam clicked on the included video link. The footage was still grainy but it clearly showed an intersection along a stretch of highway. For the first few seconds, all was quiet and then a few cars drove by going north. A huddled figure with a backpack slung over one shoulder soon appeared on screen. Just then, a camper van pulled up and stopped at the traffic lights. The figure suddenly darted forward and tried the back door. When it opened, the figure's head bobbled back and forth agitatedly, checking to see whether the coast was clear. They climbed into the van and closed the door just as the vehicle pulled out from the intersection.

The time stamp on the video read 2:54 AM.

"Aly..," Dean breathed.

Sam turned and looked up at them. "That was her! That's her purple backpack, did you see it?" he said excitedly.

Dean grabbed John's shoulder and let out a whoop. "Son of a bitch, we found her!" Then he said sarcastically, "Guess some of her training paid off."

John tapped him lightly on the back of the head. "Now we need to track down that camper van," he said, relief visible on his face, "Can Ash figure out the license plate?"

"I'm sure he's trying. He'll send more when he cleans everything up. Man, we ought to send him a bottle of good scotch when we're done with all this," Sam said.

"Good scotch?" Dean asked, "Would he even appreciate it? Just get him a couple cases of beer. I'm sure he'd like that a lot better!"

A few minutes later, as they were analyzing the video again, John's phone buzzed.

"John Winchester, if I was there with you right now, I would slap the stupid outta you!" Missouri shouted at him, "Why didn't you do what I told you?"

"Missouri? What are you….What do you mean?" John had barely managed to put the phone to his ear and was taken aback at the psychic's harsh tone.

"I've talked to Bobby Singer so you know _exactly_ what I mean! At Calvin's, I told you to make time for your daughter. No matter how painful it was, you _had_ to share some of your wife with her. That demon did his best to turn her against her family…hell, to turn her against herself! I told you to work on healing that rift!" Her voice got louder with her anger. "And obviously you didn't! I've been feeling the turmoil in that child for weeks! After you rescued her, I knew y' all needed some time to find your way back to each other but if…."

"Missouri, I tri-"

"Don't you tell me you tried, John! Don't you even _try_ that with me, you stubborn, pigheaded jackass!

John had to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment to temper the onslaught.

Dean and Sam looked at each other, wondering who was putting their Dad through the wringer.

"You put that phone back where it belongs!" she scolded and John, startled, looked around as if she were right next to him.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said quietly, running his hand sheepishly through his hair.

"Missouri." Sam and Dean said simultaneously, the answer now completely obvious. Missouri Mosely was probably the only woman on the planet who could chasten John Winchester like a little boy.

"Listen to me, John. Your child is in danger. It doesn't take a psychic to know that. Y'all better be on your toes from now on, because this situation has the potential to get very ugly, very fast!"

Missouri sighed heavily, significantly calmer now, "Do you want me to come out there with y'all?"

"No. Thanks Missouri, but no. I don't think it's safe right now," John told her, "We know the general direction she's heading, and that's where we're going."

"Good. You do your thing. I'll be reaching out to her and I'll let you know soon's I find anything. In the meantime, you best look inside yourself and work on what you're gonna say to her when you get her back."

"I don't…"

"John, the child ran because she's upset with all o' you. So talk with your boys and figure out how you're gonna make amends."

John sighed heavily, "Bobby's said as much. You're right."

"I know. I'll call if I make a connection and you call me with any news, hear?"

"I will. Thank you, Missouri."

"All right, John. Bye."

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

It wasn't really a surprise when Meg announced that she had been invited to yet another party which she just _had_ to go to the following night. I had another really bad headache and didn't have the patience to beg off going nicely, so I bluntly told her no. She kept insisting all afternoon and finally, completely irritated, I had gotten a little short with her. Having already had two cups of coffee to try and ease the pain, I was working on my third when she got mad at me, calling me a 'stick in the mud bitch'. I didn't even look at her as I told her unapologetically to go have fun and that _I_ was going to stay home and sleep.

She stormed out of the house and I went up to my room carrying my latte with me. Though I hadn't let on, I was pretty angry with the way she had just overreacted about the whole thing. Hadn't I just spent yesterday with a horrific hangover that had basically kept me bed bound for most of the day? Zeke's 'hair of the dog' had NOT helped at all and had made my head pound twice as hard. The subsequent dry-retching had been the wonderful icing on the cake. The closer I got to my room, the angrier I got and I slammed my door shut. I was hardly aware of doing it, but in a fit of temper, I threw the mug across the room.

In a flash, a cascade of images flowed through my mind; I was back at Calvin's throwing the glass in the kitchen and then there was Dean, later, yelling at me about it. Next, I was throwing a mug of coffee at the wall and Sam's angry face loomed over me as we surveyed the destruction of my coffee-soaked textbooks…

I was suddenly encased in a haze of overwhelming fear and my hand reached up on its own.

I stood there gaping for a moment, shaking my head in utter disbelief. The mug had stopped in mid-air. The. Mug. Had. STOPPED. IN. MID-FREAKING-AIR! I walked slowly over to it, circling it cautiously. I passed a hand over and under it and then immediately, felt very foolish.

"Yeah, 'cause Zeke and Meg randomly keep trick coffee mugs in their kitchen to entertain guests with," I said aloud, sarcastically, "Get it together, Winchester!"

A little bolder, I plucked the cup out of the air, the coffee sloshing about and I carried it to the bedside table. I stared at it, willing it to move again, but it didn't.

The pain in my head suddenly became unbearable and I began to see lights flashing in my peripheral vision like I had during the migraine. I was overcome with a powerful urge to see my brothers and Dad. Stumbling, I went to the closet, took out my backpack and got out Sam's t-shirt. I struggled down to the floor and buried my face in it, smelling his unique scent. Tears came to my eyes. I missed their flannel shirts. I missed Sam and our special connection that was now seemingly ruined. I missed Dad's wood smoke smell and his deep, booming voice vibrating through my chest during one of his rare hugs. I missed Dean calling me 'short stuff' and ruffling my hair, as I chased after him, trying to do the same to him.

I cried for a few minutes, random melancholy thoughts flitting through my head. I clutched at the shirt tighter and images of Sam floated to the top. I began to sob in earnest, wishing that Sam and not his tee, were there with me

"Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam…!" I called out to him frantically in my head, trying to muffle my sobs. I felt myself reaching out to him, knowing that if he could just hear me he wou…I sat bolt upright, my crying forgotten and my mind suddenly clear and alert. Had I just…or a moment it felt like I could actually _feel_ Sammy's presence, his energy, all around me….

"Sam!" I called softly. Then, just as quickly, the connection was broken and I felt so empty. My head started pounding again and I whimpered with the pain. I shoved the pack back into the closet and crawled into bed, pulling the shirt under the covers with me so that no one would see it. Curling onto my side, I prayed for my head to stop hurting.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Two of the Winchester men were bunked for the night; an early start planned for the morning. Sam was sitting at the desk browsing news sites on his lap top. Hoping to find other possible leads on Aly, he was looking for reports on missing girls located within a 100 mile radius.

After a few minutes, he cracked his neck and then his knuckles. The noise caused Dean to stop breathing for a moment and Sam stood stock still for a few moments, before his brother finally turned over and went back to sleep.

Sam glanced at his watch: 1:30 AM. Maybe it was time for him to get some shuteye also.

He was about to call it a night when he felt the strangest sensation come over him. Then he heard a muffled voice in his head; someone was calling his name over and over on a loop and he got a clear image of his sister in his mind. He didn't know how, but he knew with absolute certainty that wherever Aly was, she was upset and hurting and reaching for him. In his mind. He sat up and turned quickly, looking at Dean and his father.

Just as quickly, both sensation and voice were gone and the loss was both overwhelming and painful.

Sam shook his head, as if doing so would restore the feeling but it was no use.

It was on the tip of his tongue to awaken the others but he stopped himself.

He knew what he'd felt. Aly had somehow managed to connect to him psychically. He had no idea how'd she'd done it or if she could do it again but this was a good, albeit, confusing lead.

Neither his father nor Dean could really help with this. If it had indeed been a one-time occurrence, sharing the knowledge that Aly was upset and feeling alone was not going to make the situation any easier for them, especially after the emotional upheaval they'd all just experienced.

Decision made, Sam slipped out of the room and walked well out of earshot to lean against Baby. He had a pretty good idea who he needed to talk this through with and was unsurprised when they answered on the first ring.

"Sammy?" Missouri said, a smile in her voice, "I've been expecting your call…"

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: delacre is co-author, editor, and word-smith. Please show her some love in the comments. She wrote most of the first part of the chapter where John talks with Sam and Dean. I think she did a wonderful job! Thank You for all the reviews and follows, I'm so happy that so many people are liking this story! It's fun to write and fun to read your reviews!**


	16. Chapter 16

**CONTENT WARNING: Underage drinking and drug use**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: delacre is co-author and editor...I think her sense of humor really shines through in this chapter!**

"Missouri?" Sam laughed, awe in his voice, "Guess being psychic can have practical uses too, like knowing who's calling before you even answer."

Missouri chuckled, "Actually, you're a contact on my phone, Sam. Technology can be just as much a psychic's best friend as a hunter's."

Sam barked with laughter again.

"How's the search for your sister going, honey?"

Sam sobered quickly. "Uh, it's been really tough but we may have found our first viable lead today. She snuck onto a van heading south along the I-136. If Ash, he's…uh…an acquaintance of ours, can get the licence plate, we may be one step closer to finding her."

"That's wonderful, Sam!" Missouri sounded relieved, "That's really good news!"

"There's something else, Missouri," Sam began uncertainly, "I think that Aly may be trying to reach me…. like psychically reach me? Does that make sense?"

Missouri guffawed in amusement, "Oh, child, you're funny asking that of someone like me. Of course it makes sense! There's a lot more to your sister than meets the eye, Sam. Now, what makes you think she's reaching out to you?"

"Well, tonight, I was heading to bed when I felt the strangest sensation. Like she was right there with me, ready to touch the back of my neck or something. It was so vivid. I swear I could hear her calling to me but it only lasted a moment before it was gone."

Sam paused for a long while, trying to find a way to ask what was on his mind.

"Missouri...I don't' think it's just Aly. I think something's happening with me too. It didn't feel like it was just a one-way connection, you know? If I'd had more time…I…I think I might've been able to make contact."

"I spoke to Bobby earlier and he told me about your fight with Aly. I know you blame yourself and that you're hurting too," Missouri's tone was sympathetic, "Sam, in more ways than one, Aly's just like you. You're both sensitive and caring and you feel things very deeply…there's a lot of your mother in both of you."

Missouri paused, as if contemplating her next words carefully, "That's why I think you're right. I think that you are developing powers and because of the bond you share with Aly, there's a strong possibility that when it happens again, you're the one she'll connect with."

Sam sighed heavily. "I'm hoping it happens again soon 'cause I'm really worried about her. The way it sounded…like she was crying out for me…what can I do, Missouri? Is there any way that I can try to contact her?"

"When you're starting out, it's kind of like meditating. You need to find a quiet, dark space and just spend some time trying to clear your mind. Once you're relaxed try concentrating on Aly and use that feeling you had tonight to just reach out to her. To her energy. You should be able to feel her like you did tonight. Once you've made that connection, just try talking to her just like she was right in front of you."

"So I need to Jedi Mind Meld with her?"

"You've been spending too much time with your brother, Sam," Missouri scolded mildly, "But yes, something like that."

"About that, I was hoping to keep this between us for now. I don't know how this is going to go and I don't want to tell Dad or Dean anything until I have more to go on."

"It's okay, Sam, I understand," Missouri replied, "And you have to stop beating yourself up about Aly. She loves you and when you get her back, it'll all work out."

"I hope so," Sam said, sighing again.

"There are dangerous times ahead but the Winchester family is strong. You'll get through it."

"Thanks, Missouri."

"You're welcome, honey. I'll do my best to find her too. And call me if you need any more help. Good luck."

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

I saw a crib. As I looked down into it, the baby turned over and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Then she looked up and grabbed the rails of the crib, pulling herself to a standing position. She had fluffy blond hair and big green eyes. As she grinned widely, I picked her up and heard myself say, "Hey, Alybug, come here."

That was weird. Why did I have Sam's voice? The baby…the baby must have been me!

I rolled over, suddenly awake. Had I been dreaming? I couldn't have been though. It was more like a memory but not mine, it was Sam's memory! And Alybug had always been Sam's special nickname for me when I was little; no-one else ever called me that. I felt Sam's presence again, the way I'd felt earlier but only for a couple of seconds. Was Sam dreaming about me? But how was I seeing all of this from his perspective? I was so confused! I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, imagining that I was reaching out to Sam, my consciousness extending out over miles of highway and dirt road. I pictured his face, the way his hair fell over his collar, his dimples when he smiled and the way his forehead would crease when he frowned.

And then I felt him touch my mind like a jolt of electricity. I was right there with him! I could feel his energy, smell his smell and see him sleeping in some cheap motel room, Dean and Dad softly snoring nearby.

I heard his voice in my head, clear as day. "Aly?" he asked. And I called out to him, "Sam!"

I never got the chance to see if he'd heard me though because the connection was lost when someone knocked on my door. A sharp pain lanced through my forehead as Meg walked over to the bed, regret all over her face.

"Alyson, I'm sorry that I was a bitch to you yesterday," she said, sitting beside me as I made room for her, "I was having a really bad day but that's no excuse for pressuring you so hard."

Despite my headache, I reached for her hand and smiled at her, offering her silent forgiveness. Meg smiled back, squeezing my hand in return. We were both silent for a minute and then she whispered, "I just wanted to spend time with you. I know I went about it the wrong way but...it's only been Dad and me for as long as I can remember and then you came along. Both Dad and I love having you with us, Alyson, and I…well, I've…"

She paused as I sat up to look at her, the tears in her eyes reflected in my own.

"I don't know why this is so hard to say," she sniffed a little even as she chuckled. She took a deep breath, "I've always wanted a little sister, Alyson and that's how I see you now. I figured if my friends got to know you better, they'd see that too. You're family now and I wanted them to love you like I do." 

"Oh, Meg!" I threw my arms around her neck, pain forgotten. "I'm sorry I got angry. You and your Dad are the most amazing people I've ever met and I love you too! You're the sister I've always wanted. I can't believe how lucky I was meeting you both at that truck stop. You've changed my life for the better and I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough! "

Meg hugged me tighter and we laughed at how we must have looked, both crying our eyes out while mutually apologising and professing our love of one another. When we drew back, Meg immediately noticed me wince as my headache became too much to ignore.

"Headache?" she asked, sympathetically. I nodded in reply.

"I'm going to get you some Advil, a cup of coffee and a bagel."

I laughed at her very specific prescription and said, "Thanks Doc," as she stood up and walked towards the door. She paused before she opened it.

"I was going to suggest that we go out and do something fun today but maybe we should…"

"No," I smiled at her, thrilled to see how considerate she was being today, "I'll be fine! I want to go with you. I refuse to let a headache stop me from enjoying myself. I'll take a shower, take the pill et cetera and then we can go, okay?"

Meg bounced back over to me and kissed my forehead. "Ok, little sister," she said, excitedly, "I'll let you wear that black sundress I saw you eyeing in my closet. It's going to look great on you!"

Meg practically skipped out of my room and I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, chuckling at her enthusiasm. All thoughts of Sam and the other Winchesters forgotten.

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

We walked through the parking lot out into the adjoining forest. There was a small clearing with a wooden picnic table and attached benches about 50 feet in. We sat down and the boys opened the massive green cooler that Glenn had brought with us. While the other four chatted away, I turned a lazy eye towards the tree line ahead of us. I noticed a dogwood with bare, low branches. Distractedly, I considered that perhaps fawns had been through here recently and had eaten all the leaves. A little further on, I spotted a disturbed area of the forest floor where something had obviously been dragged further into the brush. The names of monsters, flitted through my consciousness: werewolf, wendigo, rugaru...

It was when I was thinking about the best way to kill a skinwalker that I realised what I'd been subconsciously doing. I was using my long-forgotten hunter training to analyse my surroundings. I let out a little scoff of surprise. Frankly, I'd thought that everything Dad had taught me about this stuff had gone in one ear and out the other. It made me think of a day years ago when we were walking through the woods and Dad was teaching my brothers the best way to cover their tracks. I remembered Sam giving me a piggy-back ride when I got too tired to walk and Dean tickling my feet every so often, so that I kept giggling out loud when Dad was explaining things. He must have been in a really good mood that day, 'cause he never reprimanded Dean and he even chuckled a few times when Sam threatened to tickle me too. Now, the memory made me feel sad and acutely aware of how much I used to long for more happy moments like that with my family.

Meg bumped my arm, clearly noticing how distracted I was. "Here," she said, passing me a bottle.

I was still lost in thought, so I just brought it up to my lips and took a swig. Big mistake! A nasty liquid filled my mouth and my throat burned. I began to choke and I leaned forward, unceremoniously spitting it out. It must have been whiskey or something similar because it tasted like that stuff Dad had made me drink when I'd cut my hand and Sam had had to stitch me up.

Everyone laughed at me as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, practically wheezing now.

"Thanks a lot, guys," I croaked, sourly.

"Our lightweight here only likes alcohol that doesn't taste like alcohol!" Meg teased, her eyes dancing with laughter as she clapped me on the back. "Come on, pass her some water!"

"Well, sorry, I left the frou-frou drinks at home," Jerry chuckled in amusement, "On the menu, we've got Jack Daniels, Jagermeister and Southern Comfort. Sorry kid, no Shirley Temples at this bar."

"Hey, don't forget these!" said Nicole. She held up what looked like a tiny, white cigarette.

"What is that?" I asked and Jerry, Glenn and Nicole started laughing again.

"What?" I glared at them defensively.

"Oh my God, Meg, what rock did you find this chick under?" Glenn asked, wiping his eyes.

"It's pot, Alyson. Duh!" Nicole said, rolling her eyes. "You know weed, doobie, Mary Jane?"

"I know what pot is, Nicole!" I snapped, "I just didn't recognise it!"

"Oh, like you've seen it before!" she mocked, which made Glenn laugh even harder.

"Yeah, well, my big brother brought some home once and my Dad didn't find it so funny!"

I remembered seeing the baggie on the kitchen table and Dad's angry face as he yelled at Dean. Sam had taken me for a walk around the neighborhood soon after, which meant that Dean was getting punished. I wasn't going to tell them about that though.

Nicole put the joint in her mouth and then lit it. She inhaled and then passed it to Glenn, who did the same. He handed it to Jerry, who lit the end again and inhaled. Jerry gave it to Meg who inhaled deeply and then held it out to me.

"No thanks," I said, "I don't do that stuff."

When Sam and I had come back from our walk, Dad had sat us down and told us in no uncertain terms that we were never going to do drugs of any kind while he was alive and that if we tried, he would find out and beat our asses just like he had Dean's. Sam had made an ill-timed joke, asking whether that meant that we could do so when Dad was dead. Dad had bopped Sam none too gently on the back of the head while staring him down. It didn't take words for my brother to understand that there was no way around a John Winchester edict, even if Dad had to come back as a ghost to kick our asses. For me, still a little kid at the time, it had been Dad's intensity that had scared me the most, so I swore then and there never to do drugs.

"Oh, my God, you are such a baby!" Nicole exclaimed, her voice dripping with condescension. "How old are you again? Ten? Why don't you run home to Mommy?"

"Hey, Nic!" Meg called, eyes flashing dangerously as she turned around to face her, "Why don't you back the fuck off!"

There was immediate silence and it seemed to me that Nicole was genuinely afraid for a moment. Cowed even. I bowed my head, trying to hide a rather smug grin. Nicole had been a complete jerk to me from the time I'd first met her and to have Meg defend me against her best friend, really brought home our new, deeper relationship.

I looked up at Nicole, who had regained some of her usual feigned disdain. She rolled her eyes and said, though with a much more chastened tone, "Just don't bring things down, okay? The rest of us came here to party."

Glenn and Jerry chuckled uncomfortably while Meg stared silently and steadily at Nicole. Nicole, however, refused to meet her eyes.

"Nicole," she said, her voice low and even, "Look at me."

I stared in fascination as, trying to maintain some dignity, she turned her head to look at Meg. Her face was the very picture of attempted nonchalance.

"You're going to pass AP calculus this year, right? So I know you can do math. Alyson is two years younger than us. We all know that. Jerry knows that. Glenn knows that. And I can sure as hell assure you that Alyson and I know that too. I don't think any of us need to be reminded about her age again. How does that sound to you?"

Meg didn't even wait for a response. "Alyson is a part of our family now; a part of my family now." She swung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to her, "In fact, she's my sister now. So I'm going to have to insist that you treat her with the same respect that you'd hope others would afford you, otherwise, I'm going to have to tell the others here about the time you were 12 and you decided to go skinny dipping down by the lake. As I recall, half the town was there for the start of the annual marathon. You'd think a girl as smart as you would be more aware of when major events in her hometown are taking place. Especially one that hasn't changed in twenty years…"

Jerry snickered and Glenn spit out the vodka he'd been chugging, spluttering as he tried to hold back his laughter. Nicole went beet red, blushing in humiliation as Meg smiled in satisfaction at the direct hit. As much as I liked seeing Nicole knocked down a peg, I found Meg's cruelty a bit surprising. I'd seen her in a temper before, of course, but this cool, calculating ruthlessness was new and a touch alarming.

"Wow! Glad I'm not the one that pissed her off!" I thought to myself, uncharitably.

Nicole muttered an apology and turned away from us, taking a long drag of the joint.

Meg turned a serene smile on me, squeezed my shoulders and then let me go. It took a few minutes but the conversation eventually picked up again, with even Nicole joining in with the joking and laughter. The pungent scent of the smoke wafted around us as Glenn continued passing random bottles around. The Southern Comfort was almost unbearably strong but, I found that if I chased each mouthful with a swallow of soda, it was pretty tasty. We got more and more raucous, talking and laughing about random, stupid stuff. At first, I mostly sat and listened but as the others began to include me more and more, I became comfortable jumping in. As Jerry belly laughed over a joke I'd made, I felt an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for Meg. Making friends as a hunter's daughter had always been difficult for me. It was hard to be close to people when most of what you shared about yourself and your family was a lie. Meg had gone to bat for me in a way that no one named Winchester had ever done before. I swore to myself that I would always have her back no matter what.

"Oh man, did you bring anything to eat?" Jerry asked, breaking me out of my contemplation, "I've got the munchies big time."

"Sorry no, I didn't realise this was meant to be a catered event," Glenn said, sarcastically, as Jerry threw a bottle cap at him, "There was a couple of vending machines by the bathrooms where we came in."

They wandered off to see what was on offer and Meg took some selfies of us girls, arranging us in a variety of poses. I even hugged Nicole in a few, basking a bit in an air of superiority that I was pretending not to have.

It wasn't long before Glenn and Jerry came herding though the trees with armfuls of chips, pretzels, crackers and candy bars.

Nicole let out an excited whoop. "How'd you know that I was dying for some chocolate?" she shrieked, snatching a bunch of bars from the pile that Jerry had tossed on the table.

Meg took a bag of chips and asked, "Want anything, Alyson?"

"I don't know, Meg," Glenn had an exaggeratedly contemplative look on his face, "Are you sure that she's old enough for…," he picked up a bag and read, "….Doritos 3D Jalapeno Cheddar? I mean, there are jalapenos…."

Meg shook her head in amusement, while Nicole and Jerry waited with bated breath for my response.

"Hey Glenn," I said, looking him squarely in the eyes, "Stop being such a dick and pass me my chips, asshole!"

Jerry almost fell off the bench, laughing hysterically and even Nicole smiled a little.

"That's my girl," Meg said quietly, bumping me with her shoulder.

I grinned broadly and snatched the proffered Doritos from his hand.

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

The Winchester convoy had been on the road for almost an hour when Sam's cell phone rang. "Hello?" he answered.

"Sam I am!" It was Ash. "So I was able to track that camper all the way south along route I-136. Looks like it stopped at a 7-Eleven about 200 miles away from your hotel. Your kid sister, man, she's got cajones grandes, dude! I mean stowing away at age 14 in the back…."

"Ash, let's not mention my sister and 'cajones' in the same sentence ever again, okay?" Sam interjected with distaste. Dean glanced over at him, an equally disgusted look on his face.

"Uh, yeah. I guess that's weird, right? I mean…"

"Ash!"

"Okay…uh..so, I had to hack into about 8 or 10 different cameras along the way," he said proudly, "and then jackpot! I got the license plate!"

"That's great, Ash," Sam said, "Hold on."

He switched sides and tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear. He grabbed a pen and pad out of his messenger bag. "All right, what's the number?"

"X-F-U 3415, Nevada plate."

"Thanks, Ash!" Sam said and Dean glanced over, raising his eyebrows.

"Hey man, anytime! Call me if ya need anything else."

Sam didn't waste any time before dialling John.

"Sam, I've heard from Pastor Jim, Martin and a few of the other hunters we contacted. None of them have any leads….."

"Dad," Sam interrupted, "It's okay. I just heard from Ash…"

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

Glenn dropped us off at 1 am. Meg and I walked through the front door, barely able to move without holding each other up. As I stumbled for the 5 millionth time, Meg burst out in a fit of giggles.

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I whispered just as loudly as if I'd shouted it through a megaphone.

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she replied, with just as much volume.

We managed to make it to the staircase before Meg gave up and plopped herself down on the first step. I decided to be more adventurous and crawled up to the third step, lording my success over Meg with a raucous victory cry. It was fair to say that we were both high and drunk or was that drunk and high? I'm not sure which was having the greater influence on me at this point- the cooler full of hard liquor or the second-hand pot smoke. Either way, how we'd made it home alive with a wasted Glenn driving had been a veritable miracle. We were both about to launch into a rousing rendition of The Pussycat Dolls' 'Don't Cha,' when we heard a door open upstairs.

Looking up, we saw Zeke keenly staring down at us from the top of the staircase.

"Glad to see you made it home, ladies," his eyes never straying from his daughter, "Are you all right?"

"Feeling amazing, Daddio," Meg's eyes were practically dancing with excitement, "Little sister and I are A-Ok!"

He smiled broadly at her, then at me and waved goodbye to us without another word. He went back to his room and closed the door.

Meg turned to me and hiccupped. "What should we do next, Alyson?" she asked, brightly.

I was still a bit stunned by Zeke's distinct lack of reaction at seeing the two of us clearly stoned off our asses, but I shook it off as too complicated to ponder about when I could feel a new migraine coming on.

"Uh, actually Meg, I'm thinking of turning in. I'm pretty tired and I'm about to fall flat on my face."

Meg giggled and patted my shoulder. "It's all good, Alyson. You go on up to bed."

I looked at her uncertainly, "What are you going to do?"

"I think I'll head up too," she wobbled slightly in her four inch heels, "Need to get my beauty sleep."

"Yeah, you sure do," I said innocently, starting to climb the staircase.

"Rawr!" she faked clawed at the air, "Baby Alyson has found her claws today!"

I laughed at her and she followed me up to the landing. We started towards our respective rooms, Meg giving me a tight hug before she disappeared behind her own door. I continued onto my room, a small smile gracing my lips. This had been one of the best days I'd had in a long time.

Being on the verge of one of my now ubiquitous headaches, I changed quickly and slipped into bed. It wasn't long before I was in that twilight period, between consciousness and wakefulness.

I gradually became aware of strange mental images floating on the surface of my mind. It was such an odd sensation, realizing you were somewhat asleep yet being conscious of it. 'Lucid dreaming' I'd heard it called once on a talk show. As I slipped further into sleep, I suddenly remembered my previous night's attempts at mentally contacting Sam. Even unconscious, I wondered how I'd managed to forget that for a full 24 hours. I blamed the weed and the booze and decided then and there that I was going to have to be more careful in the future. If my Dad and brothers had seen the state I'd come home in tonight….well, it didn't bear thinking about.

The first image I tried to send Sam involved what I'd looked like all made up to go out to that college party. My choice was colored with a hint of pride at how grown up I'd looked mixed with a touch of callousness and a need for the Winchesters to see how well I was doing without them. I felt a little guilty at first, but I moved on to the next image before I could dwell on it too much. A memory of a dead bird I'd seen in the woods that morning passed through my mind and I almost laughed in my sleep at the absurdity. Attempting to concentrate even harder, I became aware of pounding behind my eyes and subconsciously, I had the vague notion that my migraine must be getting worse. I decided not to let that stop me though and I focused on sending out an image of myself behind the wheel of the Mustang. When I tried specifically directing that to Sam, it felt like my eyes had exploded behind their lids and I moaned in my sleep. It wasn't long after that, that I'm sure I passed out with the pain.

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

"Ok, I know you're still green, Rookie, but it wasn't that bad."

Slowly, I was becoming aware again and I realized that someone was speaking to me.

"Come on, Alyson," I think it was Meg's voice, "This isn't funny. Wake up. Alyson, _wake up_!"

Even though I was sure I was awake now, I felt like my body was submerged in molasses. I couldn't seem to make it do anything I wanted it to. Though, opening my eyes against the pain I'd just become reacquainted with, seemed foolish at best.

"Alyson?" Meg's voice sounded frantic now and I wished I had the strength to tell her not to shout so loudly.

A minute later, I heard my bedroom door open and I mentally sighed with relief. Soon I recognized the voices of both Meg and Zeke beside my bed. Meg was explaining what we'd gotten up to the previous day and that she was worried by how difficult it was to rouse me this morning.

I winced internally in embarrassment when she went into detail of just how much whiskey I'd managed to consume. Really, I didn't think that the actual volumes were required for this discussion but I was in no position to object.

"Sweetheart," I heard Zeke's quiet, soothing voice close to my ear, "Are you okay?"

I managed to nod imperceptibly and Meg sighed with relief.

"I'm really worried about all these headaches you've been having, Alyson."

Again I was struck by just how perceptive Zeke was. He truly was amazing in that regard.

"I think you need to rest today. You obviously had a…big day, yesterday. Meg and I are going to take care of you, honey. You're going to be all right."

He and Meg moved away from the bed and he whispered something to her that I didn't manage to catch before I fell asleep again.

It was mid-afternoon before I woke up. The room was swathed in darkness but I could see that a huge bean bag had been moved next to my bed and the glow of a discarded IPad lit up a small corner of the room. Obviously, Meg had been on a bedside vigil before recently disappearing. I took stock of myself as I turned over onto my back. Well, there was no dizziness or nausea but there was still an underlying ache in my temples. All in all, it seemed that the extra dreamless sleep had done me a world of good. I heard my stomach growl loudly and became instantaneously aware of how hungry I was. Guess alcohol and junk food weren't enough sustenance for a 24 hour period. I decided to be brave and eased myself into a sitting position. So far, so good. I got up and held my stomach as it growled again.

"Hold your horses," I muttered aloud. I changed into one of Meg's purchases; another sundress that she'd insisted I just 'had to buy' and made my way to the kitchen. I figured that with some food and more coffee, there was a good chance that I could get rid of the last of my migraine. The house had been pretty quiet up to this point and I wondered where everyone was. I considered calling out for Meg, but figured she'd probably already wasted most of her day babysitting me. I was about to head over to the kitchen when it caught my eye; the staircase down to the basement. I don't even remember doing so but I was halfway to the couch in the media room before I even realized that I'd gone downstairs. I did a slow turn and took it all in; something was drawing me to this part of the house but whatever it was, it was clearly playing hard to get. I shook my head in exasperation as I made my way back to the stairs, the growing pit in my stomach spurring me on. That's when I saw it, Zeke's workroom door. I took a few tentative steps in that direction, remembering Charles' discomfort when I had last approached this door.

"Hey Sis!" I was startled by a voice coming from behind me.

I spun around, hand on my chest as my heart just about jumped into my throat.

"Oh my God, Meg!" I wheezed, turning to her," You scared the crap out of me!"

"I can tell," she laughed, coming over and clapping me on the back, "How're you feeling?"

"Well apart from the palpitations, not too bad actually. My headache is all but gone but I'm starving!"

"Well come on then, Rookie, let's get Rosa to whip something up for you. I was thinking of burgers and fries myself. " Meg gently guided me away from the now forgotten door.

"Have we really decided on 'Rookie'? Because you know, I've always been terrible at sports."

"Not according to Dad," she replied, as we headed up to the kitchen, "He tells me you were a regular Tony Stewart when he taught you to drive the Mustang."

"You know I have no idea who that is, right?" I laughed.

"Don't let Dad hear you say that," Meg replied, chuckling, "He worships at the altar of NASCAR."

My stomach growled again and I couldn't wait to find out how good Rosa's cheeseburgers were.


	17. Chapter 17

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: delacre is co-author and co-editor, but she wrote most of this chapter on her own...I think she has a really great sense of humor! Please leave us some reviews, and give her some love!**

"Jesus!" Sam shouted, sitting bolt upright in the backseat of the impala where he'd been sleeping.

"Shit!"

Baby skidded dangerously along the gravel at the side of the road. The car swerved wildly as Dean tried to bring her back onto the highway.

The two sat quietly for a minute after Dean finally regained control, hearts racing madly.

"Sam, I love you like a brother..."

"I am your brother, Dean…"

"…but if you ever do that again, I'm gonna shoot you," Dean threatened, his voice low and menacing.

Sam glared at the back of his brother's head and huffed in annoyance.

"Do you think I did that on purpose, you jerk?"

"Shoot you, Sam. Just. Shoot. You."

Sam gave Dean his most epic bitch face yet and climbed over the front bench seat.

Dean glanced at Sam through this maneuver, silently counting to ten. When he was finally calm, he sighed and asked, "What was that all about?"

Sam never got a chance to reply because Dean's phone rang. He glared at Sam for another few seconds before answering.

"Yeah? No, no problem. Sam just had an 'episode.' Probably dreaming about clowns…."

"Dean!"

"….Yeah, it's late and I'm getting hungry anyways. Yeah. Yeah, 10 miles from here. All right, see you soon."

"What's happening?" Sam asked, as Dean veered off onto the exit ramp.

"There's a restaurant up ahead and we're stopping to regroup with Dad and Bobby. You wanna tell me what just happened?"

"Actually, I think I'll wait 'til we stop. There's something I have to tell all of you."

Dean glanced over at Sam again and said, "Fine."

Fifteen minutes later, all four men were sitting in a booth at a crowded, dingy all-night diner named "Jake's" waiting for their food. Sam had just returned from the bathroom; the others wondering what news he had to share with them.

"So, I've been waiting 'til I had more to go on before I shared something with you. I wasn't really sure what was happening at first but then I talked to Missouri and…"

"Just spit it out, Sam," Bobby interrupted.

Sam stopped talking and looked at the others in resignation.

"Okay. Missouri and I think that somehow, Aly has been trying to communicate with me psychically." Sam paused to assess their reactions.

At first, the others were silent. Bobby looked expectant, like he was willing to hear the rest of the story. Dean almost spit out the swallow of beer he'd just taken. He laughed incredulously and said, "What?" and Dad…John Winchester's whole demeanor had suddenly changed. He was instantaneously alert and looked troubled. Sam supposed he could understand this on some level but there was something else there that he couldn't quite decipher. As was his wont, he decided to file it away for now.

"Look, over the past day or so, I've been seeing these images. Images that seem to have no rhyme or reason, unless you associate them with these physical sensations that…"

"Don't think I'm drunk enough yet to hear about your 'physical' anythings, Sammy," Dean muttered, taking another swig of beer.

"Dean."

John Winchester's voice was low and even and serious.

Dean sobered quickly at that tone, as he had all his life. He slowly sat up straight, the very picture of contrition.

Sam continued, keeping his eyes glued to his father. "It was like she was right there with me, just over my shoulder. I could feel her, Dad. Can't really explain it, I just know it was her."

John nodded though his face was like granite.

"What about the images?" Bobby asked, his attention also on John before he turned back to Sam.

"I heard her call out my name the first time. That only lasted a second. She sounded…well, like she needed me."

"What does that mean?" Dean slammed his beer on the table, suddenly wary.

"I don't know, Dean. It was her tone more than anything specific and like I said, it only lasted a second. Just now in the car, when I was asleep, I'm pretty sure I saw Aly but it didn't look like her. She was…..older, maybe 20. At least, she was wearing a lot of makeup and her clothes were pretty revealing. It definitely looked like she was at a frat party."

"Are you saying you can see the future?" Dean asked.

"No….I'm not sure, I mean…..no, I don't think so. It was more like she 'looked' older; like she was playing dress-up. Then I had this vision of a Dickcissel which was really weird…."

"A what?" Bobby piped in.

The waitress suddenly appeared at John's elbow, "Hey gentlemen, food's up!"

She handed out burgers and fries all round plus the slice of apple pie that Dean insisted made for a great appetizer.

John grunted his thanks as she walked off, then turned back to Sam, as did the others.

"It's a sparrow-like bird that eats...look, it doesn't matter. It was just so arbitrary. More importantly, it felt like I was seeing it through someone else's eyes…"

"What happened in the car?" John interrupted.

"That's what woke me up. I freaked out because Aly was driving a 1968 Ford Mustang GT and she almost slammed it into tree. It was like I was the one driving, only I knew that it was really Aly. She was doing 80 and I didn't think I…she was going to stop…."

"Aly was driving the Bullitt car?" Dean scoffed, "Now I know you were dreaming! She's fourteen, Sam. How the hell would she have gotten her hands on a car like that? And last I heard, we hadn't taught her how to drive yet!"

"I swear, Dean, I know it was her. I can't explain it. You're just going to have to trust me."

Dean sat back, shaking his head in disbelief. In contrast, his father looked decidedly unsettled by Sam's story and Bobby had returned to studying John.

Sam let a minute pass while everyone absorbed the information. He himself, ate a few fries while he waited.

"You said you talked to Missouri?" said Bobby, finally breaking the silence.

"I wasn't really sure what was happening at first, so I called her to see if she thought I was crazy. She thinks that whatever is going on with Aly is going on with me too."

"So now you're Nostradamus?" Dean said skeptically, "What the hell, Sam?"

"What do you want me to say, Dean?"

"Have you tried contacting her?" John asked.

"I got some tips from Missouri but I haven't been able to try them yet."

"Ok, Mr. Wizard, tell us where she is then," Dean offered sarcastically, "What good is all this psychic mumbo jumbo if it can't help us find her?"

"Like I said Dean, I'm just starting to figure this all out. I don't know if Missouri's suggestions are going to work or not, but it's something. And I'll take any lead I can get right now," Sam said earnestly, looking around the table at the others.

"Well, until your psychic radio can tune into the right frequency, why don't you give it a rest. Let's follow some real leads like the license plate Ash tracked down for us."

"Dean, you give it a rest, okay," Bobby said in exasperation, You know full well Missouri Mosely's the real deal. If she thinks Sam's onto something, then he's onto something. So get off his back, already!"

Dean glared at Bobby and then his brother, abruptly leaving the table and storming out of the diner. They saw him get into the Impala and peel out of the parking lot.

"He's taking this really hard," Sam said quietly, "He's trying to hide behind the sarcasm and the smartass remarks, but he's still blaming himself for everything."

"It's okay, Sam," John clapped his son on the shoulder, "We're going to find her."

Sam nodded once and went back to his meal. Bobby glanced between father and son one last time and did the same.

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

"I don't think I could eat another bite!" I was stuffed. Completely and utterly stuffed. Rosa's burgers were amazing! I don't think I'd ever had better. I even managed to spare a passing thought for Dean, knowing he would have loved them just as much.

Meg nodded, finishing off the last French fry. "I know, Rosa is the best."

I looked over at Rosa, intending to thank her again, when it occurred to me that she'd been huddled at a corner of the marble bench top for some time.

"What's Rosa up to?" I whispered to Meg, who looked over her shoulder.

"Oh, I guess it came in today!"

"What?" I asked curiously, Meg's excitement catching.

"Dad wanted to surprise you but I guess now's as good a time as any. We know how much coffee helps with your migraines and Dad wanted to do something special for you. We got you an Elektra Belle Epoque! Come look!"

Meg grabbed my hand and dragged me over to where Rosa was setting up what looked like an exceptionally funky looking coffee machine.

"What's an Electric Bell Poker? It looks like R2D2"

Meg broke out into a fit of laughter, "Oh my God, Alyson, you crack me up. I thought Dalek, myself, but I see what you mean. No, it's an Elektra Belle Epoque, one of the finest coffee makers in the world. Zeke only wants the best for his girls."

"Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised, "That was so thoughtful. You two have been so amazing, thank you!" I hugged Meg tightly. "I'm so full but can I try a cup?"

"Of course," Meg squeezed me and then let go, "Rosa? Can you make Alyson an espresso? I think I'll have one too."

We walked over to take a closer look at the R2Dalek. I was marveling over the beautiful eagle on the top of the machine when I heard a shout. I spun around to see Rosa drop one of the cups.

It was like a waking dream. I was suddenly back in my room, watching that mug stop in midair, feeling the subsequent awe and amazement.

Internally, I became almost euphoric. The word 'distracted' hardly accounted for the fact that I'd all but forgotten this 'little event' but that was then. I needed some privacy STAT! It was time to try for a repeat performance.

"Uh, I'm sorry Rosa," I was exaggeratedly apologetic.

"Ok reel it in, Aly, you sound ridiculous!" I thought to myself. Externally, I took it down a notch.

"I thought I could, but honestly I'm too full. It's too close to bed time anyways so it'll probably just keep me awake."

To Meg I said, "I think I'll just turn in early. I'm sorry, sis, I'll just have some with breakfast tomorrow, okay?"

"Are you sure, Rook?" Meg looked concerned, "Do you have another headache?"

"Uh…"

I thought about the pros and cons of copping to another migraine. On one hand, it would be the perfect unquestionable excuse, but on the other, Meg had set up shop in my room earlier because of worry over my headaches…

"No, Meg, I'm really just tired. Thank you for taking care of me earlier but I think I'm just going to go to sleep."

"All right, I'll come up and sit with….."

"No, it's okay, really." I had to play this carefully now.

"Fine, little sis," Meg's stare was calculating and I almost squirmed from the scrutiny. "I'll come check on you later."

"Thanks Meg," I conceded, hoping not to arouse any more suspicion. I took off to my room as sedately as I could, trying not to appear too excited.

As soon as I closed my door, I changed into one of Meg's hand me down nightgowns, figuring that with her suspicious look before, it would score me points if she happened to check on me later. I jumped into bed and looked around. I decided to start with something small. The hairbrush on my vanity table seemed like a good candidate. I stared at it, expecting it to just fly towards me. Of course, nothing happened and I cursed myself. This wasn't a movie and clearly I wasn't Carrie. I took a deep breath, shook my head and closed my eyes for a minute, attempting to center myself.

"Okay. Okay, I can do this," I whispered.

I opened my eyes and stared at the brush again. Maybe if I tried what I'd done before to connect with Sam….. With my mind, I visualized reaching for the brush and seeing it rise from the table. I was at it for the next three or four hours, getting more and more frustrated because the effort was just rekindling my headache. I closed my eyes again, laying down on the bed deciding to give up for now. Besides, I could tell it was dark outside now and I could use the rest. Before I knew it, I was asleep. I knew this because once again, I was lucid dreaming. Well, at least this still worked.

It was becoming easier the now, the process shorter. I sought out Sam's energy and within seconds, I was seeing him asleep, this time in a new motel. Dad was there too, working on his laptop in the dark. I looked around for Dean but he didn't seem to be there. I didn't have much time to ponder possible reasons for that before I wasn't feeling Sam in my consciousness. He was calling my name in that soft, caring voice he used when he wanted to convey how much he understood and loved me. It was the irresistible voice he used when I was too afraid to confess to wrongdoings and he wanted to reassure me that he would still love me no matter what. I always ceded to that voice.

"Sam?" I called softly. Warmth. Overwhelming warmth spread across me like I was being blanketed in love. I smiled in my sleep, knowing that this was like touching my brother's pure soul. The feeling faded away slowly and instead, I was treated to the image of Sam in a bank talking about ATM footage.

"That must have been a pretty boring case," I thought to myself, "Really? ATM footage?"

"Actually, it wasn't just a case, Aly," Sam's voice echoed in my head.

"Holy shit!" I screamed silently, my whole body stiffening in fright, even in my sleep. Simultaneously, pain shot through my head. It was as if a lightning bolt was bouncing around my skull and I cried out, waking up instantaneously.

I held my head in my hands, biting my lip to stop from calling out again. I certainly didn't want anyone running in to come check on me.

"Sam?" I half grunted, half whispered hopefully, but I knew he was gone.

Now that I was awake, the pain eased somewhat and I took a number of deep breaths to help calm me. I sat there, rocking slowly in bed, arms wrapped around my knees as I held them to my chest. What the hell was happening? I thought about it logically. Sam and I were communicating through our minds. I could move things with my mind- well, sometimes. I could see images through Sam's eyes- in my mind. I sat for another few minutes before it came to me.

"Oh my God," I half whispered, half laughed, "I'm just like Missouri. Sam's just like…we must be psychic!"

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

I was feeling like a million bucks. I'd had two amazing espressos from the kitchen Dalek and my headache had been completely obliterated. Meg had bounced around the kitchen, thrilled that I was so happy and pain free. Naturally, she'd decided that we simply had to go out and celebrate. Translation: shopping. Zeke had been considerably more reserved about my recovery but he was no less enthusiastic. He had given me a smile, a hug and he'd run his hand through my hair, speaking quietly to me about how wonderful it was to see me looking so refreshed and that he'd been really worried about me. I reveled in the attention and the familiarity and safety of a fatherly hug. Zeke kissed the top of my head before he let me go and then he announced he was heading in to work for a few hours. He whispered something to Meg, who smiled softly and kissed the top of her head before leaving.

An hour or two later, we were at one of those mall spas with Nicole, finishing up mani-pedis and facials. Things with Meg's bestie were significantly better but there was still some underlying tension. It was more than obvious that we were only being civil to each other in deference to Meg but hey, as long as Nicole was happy to pretend that everything was hunky-dory, so was I.

I suggested that naturally, we should get makeovers to complete the girls' day out. Nicole was sitting in the makeup chair, discussing the best way to apply false eyelashes, when Meg slipped something into my shopping bag.

"What…?" I whispered to her in alarm.

"Be quiet, Rook. You're going to get us into trouble." She took my stunned silence as another opportunity to slip around the counter, grab an expensive bottle of perfume and toss it in my bag. She was next to me in a heartbeat, the makeup lady none the wiser. Nicole was pretending to listen to her advice while staring at us with a smirk on her face.

I grabbed Meg's arm and whispered from the side of my mouth, "Stop it!"

Meg grabbed my arm and shook it. "You stop it! Stop trying to draw attention to us! My Dad'll get pissed off if I get arrested. It's done, okay?"

I glared at her but subsided. Nicole was finally finishing up anyways and I, not caring one iota as to whether they wanted to or not, was going to drag the two of them out of this mall by their fingernails if I had to. I was practically dragging Meg along with me to get to Nicole when I felt a hand slam down on my shoulder. I didn't even have to hear a voice to know what was happening. Let's just say, the déjà vu was strong with this one.

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

I couldn't believe this was happening. Hadn't I promised myself that I would never be in this situation again? Yet here I was, three short years after the first time, sitting in a cramped office, the equivalent of mall jail, freaking out about getting in trouble for shoplifting. This time, with Zeke. Once again, I reflected on the fact that up to now, he seemed to let Meg get away with everything and I hoped that, by extension, me also. But this was a different situation, right? We could get arrested, thrown into Juvie…and oh no, if the authorities dug into my background, and of course they would, I'd be bringing down a whole crap load of trouble on my family.

"Damn it!" I whispered to myself, getting up and starting to pace. Instinctively, I tried the door even though I'd seen the guard lock it when he left. Security Guard Davis, as he'd eagerly introduced himself, had been ungraciously smug about this whole thing, showing me the surveillance tapes that made it appear that we were up to no good. From the inconveniently well-placed cameras, the evidence seemed particularly damning.

"A bunch of rich girls out for some excitement,' he'd said.

It was clear that Davis and his manager wanted to make examples of us and I had had the distinct impression that we were royally screwed. Not for the first time in my life, I wished that I'd learnt anything from the lock picking sessions Dean had taken me through years ago.

It had already been three hours and I was beginning to panic, my fear and self-pity rising to consume me equally, when I felt pressure release from behind my eyes. The door suddenly flew opened and I turned expecting to see the police about to haul me away. There was no one there. I waited for a few seconds and then cautiously made my way out of the room. Surprisingly there was no one in the hallway and I cautiously moved along the wall, hoping to find where Meg and Nicole were being kept. Looking into the offices along the way, there was no sign of either of them. Miraculously, I had managed to make it all the way to the end of the hall without being spotted. A glass door leading to the eastern side of the garage in front of me, I spun around and cursed silently to myself. I'd gone too far and now I was going to have to turn back into the lion's den to try to find the others. I was steeling myself up to do just that, when a knock came from the door beside me. It took all I had to stay silent. It was Meg, standing there outside the building smirking at me. She motioned for me to the door handle and I wasted no time in turning it.

"What the hell, Meg?" I hissed, squinting in the sunlight, "How did you get out here?"

She held up a cellphone. "I managed to slip away from the mall cop, took his phone and called Nicole's older sister, Beth. She's a lawyer."

"Where's Nicole?"

"Last I saw, she was getting the car."

"How the hell did you two both get out?" We moved away from the door and started making our way between the cars.

"Nic convinced rent-a-cop that she had nothing to do with it. I assume they showed you the footage?"

I nodded looking back to see if anyone was following us.

"Well, it was pretty obvious what we were doing on those tapes. He just assumed Nic was guilty because she was with us. But, he had no proof of that so a few threats about her sister's prestigious law firm and she was out of there,"

"And what about me?" I stopped walking and turned angrily to face her, "I was sitting there in a locked room waiting for them to come back with the police while the two of you were out here enjoying the afternoon sun. What the hell, Meg?"

Just then, Nicole's black BMW drove up beside us, but she was not alone. A thirty something year old, smartly dressed woman who could only be her sister Beth, was sitting beside her in the front.

"Get in," called Nic.

Giving Meg another glare, I flounced around to the far side of the car and got into the back behind Beth. Meg got in behind Nic.

We were silent as we pulled out onto the highway. Beth turned around in her seat to shake my hand.

"Hi, I'm Beth, Nicole's sister."

"Hi, I'm Alyson," I shook her hand.

"Everything's ok, ladies," Beth continued, as she looked at each of us in turn, "I spoke with the manager and convinced him that there was nothing to gain from prosecution in this case. His so-called video evidence could be interpreted a million different ways by any one of my experts and keeping minors locked up for hours, without their parents or counsel….well, let's just say he couldn't wait for you to leave. As an added bonus, he's going to 'misplace' the footage. You're all in the clear."

Meg laughed out loud as Beth smirked and Nicole chuckled. I was happy that we'd gotten out of it but still pissed off that I had been seemingly left behind. Meg looked over at me and grabbed my hand.

"I was coming back for you, Alyson. Don't you even think that I would have left you there," she hissed at me quietly, squeezing my hand even tighter.

"It didn't seem like it," I said petulantly, looking straight ahead but not pulling away from her.

"Little sister," she called, "Rook, look at me!"

I turned my angry face towards her. She was staring intensely at me, regret and hurt in her eyes.

"You're my little sister now, Alyson. I'm so sorry that you felt you were alone. I love you! I would never have left you, never!"

She started crying and I felt like crap. Of course, she wouldn't have left me. This was Meg. The same Meg who'd been proving to me for weeks now just how much I meant to her. The same Meg who had welcomed me into her home and her life and more importantly, shared her father with me.

I still felt justified but I decided I was going to have to learn to let things go.

"Okay," I said, looking away. That was all I was going to be able to manage for now.

Meg didn't let go of my hand for the whole drive. We were about five minutes from home when she suddenly asked me, "Alyson, how did you open that door?"

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

"Here you go, Detective Walsh," the manager of the 7-Eleven skipped ahead on the video with his mouse, "You can clearly make out someone running away from the back of this camper van but that's all I've got. That's the only camera we have that captures any of this. Like I said, I was working that night and I didn't see anyone else. The driver came in, bought some snacks and drinks and then left. No one came in with him."

"And you said the other attendant was out the back," Dean asked, as he took the mouse, maximized the video and replayed the relevant segment.

"Trust me, Detective Ehart, Jenn wouldn't have seen anything," Dale replied, shaking his head, "She was knee deep in puke. Some lovely patron left us a little surprise in the customer bathrooms and Jenn's low man on the totem pole. Clean up was going to take her a while."

Dean looked up at Sam, his father and Bobby. The four were following up on Ash's camper van lead and were apparently in the process of hitting a dead end. Thanks to Ash and traffic cam footage, they'd known that the van had stopped here but they'd been hoping to get more information when they actually came to check the place out.

The night that Sam had gone insane, Dean had torn out of the diner's parking lot and put about 50 miles between him and the ridiculous confession. He couldn't believe that Bobby and his father were listening to the crap that Sam had been peddling. Sure, Missouri had always been legit but Sam was just…Sam. And to drag their sister into his crazy? He had needed to get out of there before he said or did something he couldn't take back. Like a basset hound, he'd manage to sniff out some seedy bar on the outskirts of some backwater town along their original route. He'd practically drunk himself into oblivion, ignoring all the calls from Bobby, Dad and then Sam. After the first two hours, he'd turned off the ringer and re-dedicated himself to obliterating all the deep seeded guilt and pain. It had been working until his brother had sat down on the barstool next to him.

"How'd you find me?" he asked Sam, not even bothering to turn around. He signaled the bartender to top up his whiskey.

"It's called pinging, Dean, you know that," Sam shook his head, annoyed with himself. Antagonizing his brother was not going to help matters. He stared at Dean's profile for a minute before speaking again, "I'm sorry. I don't know how this started and I didn't ask for it, but it's happening."

"What Sam? What is this? How do you know that any of these 'images' are coming from our sister?" Dean spun around on the stool finally, his eyes bloodshot and angry.

"Dean, please," Sam looked at his brother with the pleading puppy-dog eyes that had always cut him to the core.

That was all his brother needed to say. Dean stared at Sam while downing the last of his drink. He took a big breath and then let it out slowly.

"Ok, Sammy, let's go."

Since then, Dean had been completely on-board with any and everything the team had planned. When they chased down the camper van driver a few days later to question him, Dean was leading the interrogation (as an FBI agent, of course) with consummate professionalism. When Sam had had another episode where he claimed that he and Aly had had a brief conversation in his head, Dean had been in the forefront of helping to analyze every detail of the dream as Sam had relayed it to them. When another week had passed, and the others had started getting stir crazy after all leads had dried up, Dean had been the voice of reason and hope.

Sam knew that his brother had decided to put his guilt on the back burner and to look at this like it was any other case. He wasn't happy about it but if it gave Dean time to come to grips with the situation, he was willing to let sleeping dogs lie. He hadn't been able to make contact with his sister since they'd had their 'mind chat,' as he'd taken to calling it. He had no idea what that meant but wherever she was, he prayed that she was all right.

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

Another night, another party with Meg. I was beginning to wonder if her plan for the future was to major in Social Calendar Climbing as part of the advanced class. Technically, we were still a month away from summer break and I had yet to see Meg doing any homework or going to any classes. Certainly, we usually only hung out with Nicole, Jerry and Glenn on weekends or after school hours, so at least they still seemed to be in school. I knew that Meg travelled with Zeke every year and clearly he didn't wait for school holidays to do so. Still, I had assumed she would have had to go back by now. I asked her about it and she told me that, since these outings had been taking place for at least the last three years, Zeke had struck a deal with her high-school that had allowed her to finish assignments and exams early. Granted, it hadn't hurt that he had recently dedicated a brand new 7000 square foot gymnasium to the school either. It was just one more way that people of means and privilege were able to control the world around them and it fascinated me. When Meg had quietly suggested that since I was one of them now, when they enrolled me next year, Zeke would insist that I had the same deal, it almost brought tears to my eyes. It wasn't hard to agree to those terms.

So, as I was saying, that this was our sixth party in 2 weeks, really didn't surprise me. What was still puzzling me to no end was the blasé way Zeke seemed to feel about our ever burgeoning night life. We were only sixteen and fourteen, after all. Most times we were hanging out with college aged and older people who offered alcohol and all manner of illegal drugs as freely as they did nachos and dip. And still, even when we came back at all hours of the night and early morning, Zeke was never waiting up to conduct the interrogation that I expected would eventually come. I had more than one memory of being little, and waking up in the middle of the night hearing my father yelling at one of my brothers for breaking curfew. Violating this, one of John Winchester's most important rules, always led to the harshest of consequences. We all knew that the dangerous things that went bump in the night were all too real and the potential of throwing one's life away needlessly or carelessly, just for fun, was tantamount to betrayal of our obligation to the family business.

The morning after our latest foray into the college campus underground, I waited nervously for Zeke to finally admonish us while we ate breakfast. It never happened. In fact, I listened in horror as Meg happily recounted the wild things that had happened the previous night. Zeke, to my utter surprise, just sat there with a half-smile on his face. At first, I just assumed he wasn't actually listening but then he started asking relevant questions and laughing out loud at answers that might have given John Winchester a stroke. It almost gave me my own conniption and I choked on my orange juice a few times. To say it I found the whole situation strange was a bit of an understatement but I had to remind myself that every family was different. The Winchester men were overprotective to a fault, but at least it made me feel like they cared about me and wanted me safe. It made me ponder what I knew about Meg and Zeke's relationship. She basically had no chores, no curfew- no rules at all, as far as I could tell. Plus, she'd told me that, as per Zeke, she could do whatever she wanted as long as she didn't get arrested. That was why she had made sure to call in Beth when we'd got in trouble for shoplifting. She needed the whole episode to go away and fast, without her father ever finding out. I didn't know whether this gave me hope that Zeke had set some limits for his daughter or not. What I did wonder was what all of this meant for me in this new family dynamic we were exploring? Was I held to the same (read: low) standard or did I need to play the good daughter to ensure my place?

It was the next day, while Meg was sleeping in and Zeke and I were in the kitchen, that my worry compelled me to ask him about it. We were sitting at the table and he was browsing through the newspaper, drinking his coffee.

"Um, Zeke? I have something I want to ask you." I said nervously, "But I don't want to offend or upset you…."

Zeke put the paper down and gave me his full attention. "Alyson, you can ask me anything. Trust me, I won't be offended."

"Well... Meg and I…Meg…."

Zeke chuckled a little and put his hand on my arm, "Breathe, Alyson. It's okay. Just say it."

Encouraged by this, I smiled and he pulled his arm away, sitting back in his chair.

"Okay," I said, psyching myself up. "All right, here goes. Meg seems to have…um, a lot of freedom. She told me all about how she gets to finish the school year early, which is really awesome by the way, but she doesn't seem to have any rules or consequences?"

My voice pitched rather high at the end of my sentence and I could see that Zeke was trying not to laugh at me. Eventually, he just broke down and after a moment, I joined him, thrilled that he hadn't told me to mind my own business.

Zeke cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. "I think I know what you're trying to ask, Alyson. Look, I know that Meg can be…," he paused briefly, "…wild. And there may be times that I find myself worrying about her for a variety of reasons. But I trust her judgement. I know she's got a good head on her shoulders and she's a quick thinker."

I must have looked sceptical because then he said, "Okay, let me put it like this. I'm a single parent. Meg was all I had until recently."

I gave him a small, appreciative smile.

"You know that I'm an investment banker, but did you know that I actually own my own firm? It's a very old family business and we make a lot of money and employ a lot of people. Meg and I are more than comfortable. But I'd give all of this up; the money, the house and the business. For her.

So yes, am I indulgent? Absolutely! But she's my daughter, Alyson. That's what Dads are supposed to be like with their little girls. They're supposed to help them discover their calling and then encourage them to be great at it. Dads make sure that their daughters' ideas and opinions matter, even if they don't mesh with their own. I've raised her to be confident and to love herself just as she is. I won't discourage her from finding her path and living life on her own terms and I won't let anyone else stand in her way. You just have to trust your kids, Alyson. Love them for who they are, unconditionally. Anything less, and you don't deserve them."

Overall, I was mesmerized yet surprised by his answer but not by my reaction. I felt tears come to my eyes immediately. My Dad didn't trust me or think I had a good head on my shoulders. He had made more rules for me than I could ever break in my life time, all under the guise of trying to keep me safe. Instead, all they'd ever done was make me feel like a pathetic, little kid who was too dumb to take care of herself. Clearly that was true, because apparently I'd needed three fathers i.e. ones named John, Dean and Sam, to run every facet of my life. Despite that, it seemed that I always managed to screw up each and every time. You just had to ask any one of them.

I looked down at my plate embarrassed. I didn't want to make it that obvious that I'd clearly missed out on all this 'understanding' in my old life. Zeke put his hand on my arm again, and I looked up at him.

"It's okay, Aly….is it all right if I call you, Aly?" I nodded, brushing away a stray tear. "Aly, you've only been here a few weeks now, but Meg and I both feel like you're a part of our little family. I know that Meg has told you that she looks at you like the little sister that she's always wanted. I think you're an amazingly strong person and I admire that so much in someone so young." He paused for a second and he had tears in his eyes also.

It's not just Meg, sweetheart," he whispered, "You've become just like a daughter to me too. I want you to know that you have a home here with us for as long as you want it, Aly and I really hope that you do."

It took me a few seconds before I launched myself into Zeke's arms. He held me tightly and I felt such safety and acceptance there, that my tears of sadness gave way to tears of deep gratitude and the beginnings of love. Zeke held me until I started to push away and he dried the last of my tears with his thumbs.

"Ok, Aly, let's finish breakfast and we can go take the Porsche for a drive."

"Oh wow!" I exclaimed, my mood suddenly light, "I've never even seen one up close before."

"Well after today, honey, you can say that you've driven one."

He said it so nonchalantly that I almost choked. Again, he laughed at me and I found myself eating twice as fast. The Porsche was waiting.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: delacre is co-author and co-editor, but she wrote most of this chapter on her own...I think she has a really great sense of humor! Please leave us some reviews, and give her some love!**


	18. Chapter 18

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: delacre is co-author of this story with me, however she wrote the majority of this chapter. Part of the chapter and dialogue comes from Supernatural Season 1, episode 14... please let us know what you think, we love reviews!**

"Dean. Dean!" Sam was frantic as he flipped on the light and shook his brother awake.

Dean sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing, man? It's the middle of the night"

"We have to go," Sam replied, as he gathered his stuff from around the motel room.

"What's happening?" Dean asked in confusion, sitting up on his elbows and staring at Sam who was already about to head out the door.

"We have to go. Right now!" Sam answered cryptically, grabbing his bag.

"Wait!" Dean shouted, starting to get annoyed, "Just calm down a minute and tell me what's going on."

"I had a dream…actually, I think it was more like a premonition. I saw flashes of this car and a license plate and this guy- he was murdered. But I think someone set it up to make it look like a suicide…"

"Sammy, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare," Dean looked relieved, settling back into the bed, "Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare."

"It felt different, Dean. Real. Like when I dreamed about Aly and had those visions of the things she's been doing."

Dean sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?" he raked his hands through his hair, trying to fight off the last vestiges of sleep.

"No," Sam snapped, impatiently.

"No. Exactly. Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in…where was this license plate from?"

"Michigan. Look, I don't know, Dean. I just know we have to get there now!"

"Okay, I'll bite. Why are you so hell bent on going to Michigan to save some suicidal guy you don't even know?"

Sam glared at his brother and dropped his duffel on the carpet. "Look Dean, we haven't had a lead in more than a week and I haven't been able to contact Aly for even longer than that. This is the first 'psychic' thing that's happened to me since the 'mind chat' I had with her and I think we need to check it out."

"What about Dad and Bobby?" Dean asked in exasperation, "Were you just planning on running out of here half-cocked without telling them? Do you really think that this is the time to be driving more than a 100 miles in the opposite direction to where we need to be?"

"We have no idea where we need to be, Dean, that's the whole point! I think this could be a real lead and if you don't want to come with me, don't. But I'm going and I'm going now!" Sam snatched up his duffel again and turned towards the door.

"Fine, Sam!" Dean called after him, standing up, "Just wait a minute. Let me get my stuff together and then we'll let Dad and Bobby know what we're doing."

Sam turned back to Dean and stared at him assessingly, as if weighing up the truth of his words.

"Okay, but hurry up. And we'll call Dad and Bobby from the road."

"Okay, okay," Dean walked towards the bathroom, snatching his duffel along the way, "Just let me get some clothes on."

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

"Yeah Dad, Sam thinks this could be a case. Saginaw. Yeah, it's only a coupla hours and we've got an address. Okay, we'll call when we know something." Dean hung up and looked over at Sam who was staring determinedly straight ahead.

"Well, Dad is on board with this little expedition!" Dean said with an incredulous chuckle, "Couldn't seem to agree fast enough."

"Why did you tell him that this was just another case?" Sam turned to Dean, who looked away. "Dean, why didn't you tell him that I had some kind of psychic vision?"

Dean was silent for a minute, aware that his brother's eyes were boring holes through his skull.

"Look, maybe I understood what you did before."

"What I did before when?"

"When you first told us all about your 'powers'," Dean glanced over at his glaring brother, "You said that you and Missouri kept quiet when you were trying to connect to Aly, in case it didn't work out. Well, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea."

Sam looked at Dean incredulously, "Really?" he scoffed.

Dean glared right back at his brother, "Just shut up, okay."

Sam stared at Dean for a moment and then returned to looking out the windshield.

They were both silent for a moment and then Sam asked, "How far are we?"

"About two hours."

"Drive faster, Dean," he said simply.

Dean pursed his lips in mild annoyance and then pushed down on the accelerator. Fine. It was time for him to get into game mode, anyways. He was more than happy to have a real case to focus on right now, even if it had come from his brother's freaky abilities.

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"Ok, out with it."

John Winchester looked over at Bobby as he took another sip of his beer.

"Whadda you mean?"

"Well, no offense, John, but ever since Sam told you about his 'powers', you've been uncharacteristically…cooperative. And we're still trying to find Aly, last I'd heard, so why are you letting them boys go off on some case?"

"We're all going a bit loco around here, Bobby. We haven't had a lead in…Look, the boys need a break right now and this thing in Michigan could be something. Saginaw's 2 hours away. If there's nothing there, they'll be back soon enough."

"Winchester," Bobby's voice was dark, "I've known you a long time. I've known your kids since they were knee high…"

"What's your point?"

"Do I look like some newborn calf to you? You can't fool me, John, so stop deflecting," Bobby hissed loudly.

He looked around from their table, noticing a few people staring at them. He turned back to John and with a quieter, but still irritated voice he said, "I saw that look on your face when Sam first told us about his abilities. You know something more than you're telling us and I wanna know what it is."

John took another long swallow of his beer and indicated to their waitress that he wanted one more round. When she had delivered a new bottle to both men, he looked over at Bobby, who was staring at him intensely.

"Ok," he sighed, rubbing his forehead, "You win."

Bobby sat back in his chair and waited.

"This demon, Azazael," John started, his voice quiet, "When he took Aly…that wasn't the first time he's come after the kids…"

"What?" Bobby asked, his eyes widening.

"You know he's the one that killed Mary and that I've been trying to track him down ever since? It's why I got into hunting in the first place."

Bobby nodded.

"What I haven't told you is that he's come after Sam and Aly before. Missouri helped me find out the truth; she's the only one that knows what I'm about to tell you."

John paused for another fortifying swallow before continuing.

"Mary made a deal with this creature to stop him from killing me. In exchange, she agreed that 10 years later, he'd have access to Sam…."

"What's that mean, 'access'?"

"It means that when Sammy was 6 months old, Azazael fed him some of his blood. I think that's why Sam in manifesting these powers now. The bastard's plans are finally coming to fruition."

"And what do you think those are?"

"I've been tracking down every demon I could get my hands on trying to answer that very question. I have some solid facts but a hell of a lot more guesswork. I think that Mary wasn't the only mother he made a deal with back in 1973 and I think he 'infected' a bunch of other babies like he did Sam. He's been biding his time, waiting for these kids to grow up and now we're seeing the results."

Bobby was staring at him with rapt attention, barely even breathing. John coughed a little and cleared his throat before beginning again.

"He's made these 'special children' for some purpose I can't see yet. All I know, is that he needs them to do something and he needs them to be powerful."

"So he's coming after you because you're huntin' down a way to kill him?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he knows that I'm after the Colt. But those demons I've been using to hunt him? A lot of them were his minions. They actually consider him to be their father. So I think I pissed him off by killing them and that's why he took Aly and why I'm afraid for her now."

Bobby absorbed this information for a minute and then a puzzled look crossed his face.

"What is it, Bobby?"

"None of that explains why Aly has powers, John."

John finished off his beer and slammed it to the table.

"The night he killed Mary…the night he took my wife. He slit open her stomach, he plastered her to the ceiling and he burned her alive!"

John's voice was hard, his face filled with a mixture of rage and anguish.

"And he did this, right above my baby girl's crib."

Bobby remained silent, not wanting to, but already knowing the inevitable conclusion to John's tale.

"I think he was feeding his blood to my Aly, Bobby, and I think that Mary came in and interrupted him and that's why he killed her."

"And now he may be after Aly again, because she's one of those special kids." Bobby whispered, taking his cap off and rubbing his forehead.

The two men were silent for a minute before Bobby said, "One thing that's bothering me… Have you found any evidence of more of these special kids that are Aly's age?"

John stared at Bobby as he considered the question.

"Not really," he began uncertainly, "From what I've seen, it's only been kids Sam's age…what are you thinking?"

"You say he's been biding his time waiting for these kids to grow up but Aly….she's had way less time to develop these powers. She can't be as valuable to him as the others."

"I know," John sighed in resignation, "I can't see the whole picture yet, Bobby, and that's what terrifies me."

"Is this why you let the boys go off to Michigan?"

"Yeah. I want to keep Sam away from anything to do with these powers."

Bobby raised his eyebrows questioningly, John understanding why immediately.

"I know that I was all for it at the beginning; he was seeing Aly and I thought he could help find her. But it's been more than a week and nothing. Until I know what this asshole wants with my kids, I'm not sure I want Sam using those powers anymore. If this case can distract him, so be it."

"And I assume you have no intentions of sharing any of this with your boys?"

"Got it in one, Singer."

"You're a jackass, John," Bobby took a long sip of his beer, "You know they'll be pissed when they find out. Probably more pissed as I am."

"I was trying to protect them, Bobby," John said, stubbornly, "I'll do anything to protect them even if it means not telling them everything."

"Remember how well that worked with Aly?" Bobby replied irritated, "and what you promised your sons less than two months ago? Honesty, John, before you lose them all."

John stared at Bobby in silence. He had a lot to think about before Sam and Dean got back.

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Sam grimaced as he stared at the dead man's wife crying on the front step of the house. She was leaning against a middle aged man, her step-son behind them looking distraught.

They'd arrived at the house of Jim Miller in time to see Emergency workers zipping him up in a body bag. According to a neighbor, it was a presumed suicide. They'd found him an hour or two ago in his garage, inside a locked car with the engine running.

"Sam we got here as fast we could," Dean said to his brother.

"Not fast enough. It just doesn't make any sense, man. Why would I even have this premonition if there wasn't a chance I could stop it?

"I dunno. But Sam, maybe the guy just killed himself? Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."

Sam shook his head vehemently, "I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, Dean. It trapped him in the garage."

"Okay then. What was it- a spirit, poltergeist, what?"

"I don't know what it was and I don't know why I would be dreaming about this guy."

Sam was getting upset and Dean stared at him for a long moment.

"Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house and talk to the family." Dean moved to open the car door.

"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us."

Dean looked thoughtfully at the family. "Yeah you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."

"Who?"

Dean smirked at him and got into the impala.

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"Where did you even get these clothes?" Sam asked, pulling at the clerical collar he was wearing. Sometime in the night, Dean had come back to their motel room with the priest suits they were currently wearing.

"You don't wanna know, dude," Dean replied smugly as he rang the doorbell.

The door opened, revealing the man from last night who'd been comforting the victim's widow. He let them inside under the guise that they were Fathers Simmons and Frehley, two new junior priests from the Millers' church, St. Augustine's.

He turned out to be Jim Miller's brother Roger who, judging by his less than hospitable greeting, was clearly not religious. Mrs. Miller, Alice, intervened, apologising for her brother-in-law's rudeness. Soon she and Dean were in the lounge room drinking coffee, while Sam went off to talk to the Millers' son, Max. It seemed Max had been the one to find his father in the garage.

Sam approached the young man and introduced himself. They talked for a few minutes about random topics; what Jim had been like, the fact that Max was living at home now to save money for school and the circumstances under which he had found his father in the garage.

Dean had taken a more direct approach with Mrs. Miller, asking whether Jim had had a history of depression and whether the family had ever noticed weird leaks, electrical shortages or odd settling noises at night in the five years they'd lived in the house. When her answers revealed nothing out of the ordinary, Dean took the opportunity to check out the rest of the house on the pretext of needing to use the bathroom.

Upstairs alone, he whipped out his infrared thermal scanner and swept a few rooms. Apparently, there was nothing to see here. Later, back at their motel room, he compared notes with Sam who had searched for any existing supernatural history on either the house or the land on which it stood. It seemed neither of them had come up with anything.

"So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?" Sam sighed, watching Dean clean one of their shotguns.

"I dunno. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house, though," Dean replied, glancing briefly at his brother.

Sam rubbed his forehead, pain suddenly blooming across his temples. "Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house...uh…maybe it's just...gosh…" Sam held his head in his hands, the pain was escalating now, "Maybe... maybe it's connected to Jim in…uh…some other way?"

"What's wrong with you?" Dean looked up just in time to see Sam sinking from the bed to crouch on the floor. "Ahh! My head!"

Dean rushed immediately to his brother's side. "Sam? Hey, Hey? What's going on? Talk to me!"

Through watering eyes, Sam began to describe the searing agony burgeoning in his skull, when his consciousness was suddenly transported to a beaten down apartment where Roger Miller was putting away his groceries. It was clear that some invisible entity was opening the kitchen window repeatedly. Roger managed to close and lock it the first time, but on the second, with the window stuck, he leaned out and twisted upwards to try to work out the problem. As he was laying there, the window slid closed and Roger was decapitated.

"It's happening again," Sam panted, his focus back on Dean and their motel room, "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller!"

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

They were speeding to Roger Miller's apartment, both silent in their contemplation of the last 24 hrs' events. Dean looked over at Sam's rigid expression, knowingly. That look was one that all the Winchester children had inherited from John. It was the one that meant that despite the outer calm, the inner chaos had reached critical mass.

"You ok? Because if you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery..."

"I'm fine, Dean, just drive."

"Uh-huh."

Sam looked at his brother, sighing heavily before staring through the windshield again.

"Dean? I'm scared, man. Having psychic connections with Aly was weird enough but then they stopped. Now all of a sudden, I'm having premonitions and they're not like the visions from before. These are….much more intense. And painful."

"It'll be fine, Sam."

"What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them? Why am I watching them die? Is any of this going to help us find Aly?" Sam looked stricken, his voice rising with every question, "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know but we'll figure it out. We always do."

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

"I'm really getting tired of this," Sam said angrily, as they walked away from the now-deceased Roger's building.

"Hey, here's one premonition that even I can predict," Dean replied with humor in his voice.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"There are only two more Millers left so you have a 50:50 chance of getting it right next time."

Sam stopped walking and scowled fiercely at his brother.

"Too soon?" Dean asked, somewhat chagrined.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked passed.

"Look, Sam," Dean jogged to catch up, "I'm telling you, there was nothing in there. No signs either, just like the Miller's house."

"I saw something in the vision. Like a dark shape. Something was...something was stalking Roger. I'm beginning to think I was right. It is connected to the family themselves. Like a vengeful spirit, maybe?"

"Maybe. Could be that Roger and Jim got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy."

"And now that something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying," Sam opened the door to Baby and got in. "Hey?" he turned to Dean as he started the engine, "I guess this means that Max is the next one in danger."

Dean paused before putting the impala in gear, "Let's figure this thing out before he is."

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

"How're you holding up?" Sam asked Max softly, as he and Dean sat on the sofa across from him.

Max shrugged.

"You're dad and your uncle were close?" Sam prodded, looking over at Dean

"Yeah I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little."

"But not much lately?" Dean asked encouragingly, pulling at his itchy clerical collar.

"No, it's not that. It's just...we used to be neighbors when I was a kid and we lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time."

"So was it all good memories in that house? Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?" Dean was becoming frustrated with the proverbial tooth pulling.

"What do you...why do you ask?" Max eyes flitted away and it was obvious that he was being evasive.

"Just a question," Dean smiled, warily.

"No," Max sighed, trying to calm himself down, "There was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy."

"Good. That's good. Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off," Dean stood up, abruptly, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

"Uh," Sam stood as well, "Yes, Father Simmons is right. Thank you, Max."

"Yeah," Max replied, looking relieved.

In the impala, Dean dragged the collar off and breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"Was that symbol of God burning your devil skin, Dean?" Sam asked, amused.

"Well someone is regaining his pathetic sense of humor, I see?" Dean glared mildly at Sam. "Ok, so no one's family is totally normal and happy. Max sounded scared when he was talking about his old house…."

"Yeah, he wasn't telling us everything. I say we go find the old neighbourhood," Sam took off his suit jacket and collar then strapped on his seatbelt.

"My thoughts, exactly."

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They'd been talking to the Millers' old neighbor for the past five minutes and the story he'd been telling them was becoming more and more grim. It seemed that Joe Miller had been an abusive drunk who'd beaten his son badly enough for obvious bruises and a few broken arms. His brother had been no better. It was the step-mother, however, who had disgusted the man most of all. While he, a mere neighbor had called the police seven or eight times, she had never lifted a finger to protect her step-son.

Suddenly Sam began grimacing, his hand immediately clutching at his forehead.

Dean held an arm out to his brother, "Thanks for your time, sir," he said to the neighbour, turning away and supporting Sam back to the car.

~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~ spn ~

"Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing, Dean!" Sam rubbed his forehead for the millionth time, trying to ease the lingering ache.

He'd just had another vision and he and Dean were currently racing back to the Miller's current home.

"You sure about this?" Dean asked, looking over at his brother in concern.

"Yeah, I saw him. He's using telekinesis," Sam answered,

"What? So he's psychic, a spoon bender?" Dean was dubious.

"I didn't even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time - I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess ….because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about? The dude's nothing like you," Dean scoffed, dismissively.

"Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both..."

"Both what, Sam? Max is a monster! He's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third," Dean was exasperated with his brother's insane logic, "What? Are you saying that that you and Aly fit that description? Because I can assure you, Sam that neither you nor our fourteen year old kid sister is a monster!"

"Of course that's not what I'm saying, Dean. But with what he went through, the beatings? To want revenge on those people? I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that crazy."

"Yeah but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!"

"Dean..."

Pulling over at Max's house, Dean turned off Baby's engine and turned in his seat towards his brother, "He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him."

"We're not going to kill Max," Sam replied simply.

"Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer, he kills with the power of his mind'?"

"No way. Forget it. He's a person. We can talk to him," Sam replied, adamantly, "Promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."

Dean stared at Sam for a long moment, his lips pursed in frustration, "All right fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else." Dean reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out a gun, not waiting for Sam to voice his opinion. He opened the car door and jogged up to the Miller's front door, Sam in tow.

They burst through just in time. Max was about one second away from using the large knife to kill his step-mother.

"Fathers?" Mrs. Miller was surprised to see them as was Max.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He had tears in his eyes and was rocking slightly from side to side in agitation.

"Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second? It's...it's private and I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it," Sam tried for a soothing tone, seeing that Max was right on the edge.

Max looked at his stepmother with hatred in his eyes. "Ok," he said through gritted teeth.

"Great," Sam smiled mildly, as he and Dean turning for the front door with Max following.

Suddenly, as Dean pulled the door open, it slammed shut as did the wooden window blinds all around the room.

"You're not priests!" Max shouted, betrayal etched on his face, "Priests don't carry guns!"

Dean reached under his jacket but Max used his mind to pull it away, causing the gun to slide across the floor where he picked it up. He pointed it at Sam and Dean, his hand shaking.

"Max, what's happening?" Mrs. Miller cried in obvious terror.

"Shut up!" he screamed at her, his hand extending towards her.

"Max?!"

Suddenly she was flung backwards across the kitchen where she hit her head against the counter and fell unconscious to the tiled floor.

"I said shut up, you bitch!" Max bellowed at her crumpled form, spittle flying from his mouth.

"Max calm down, we just wanna talk," Sam said quietly, his tone calm.

"Yeah right, that's why you brought the gun!"

"That was a mistake, all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max, okay? Just please, just hear me out," Sam slowly raised his arms in surrender, not breaking eye contact.

Max nodded his head, indicating that Sam should continue.

"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened."

"What?" Max asked in confusion.

"I'm having visions, Max. About you."

"You're crazy and a liar!"

"So what? You weren't gonna launch a knife at your step-mom's head with your mind? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do?" Sam's arm swept outward, indicating the room.

"Max, I was drawn here, all right? I think I'm here to help you. Please, let me try. We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean and Alice out of here."

"Uh-huh. No way. Nobody is leaving this house!"

The chandelier above their heads began to shake and Sam rushed to intervene.

'And nobody has to, all right? They'll just...they'll just go upstairs."

"Sam, I'm not leaving you alone with him," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Yes you are. Look, Max. You're in charge here, all right, we all know that. No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but I'm talking five minutes here, man."

"Sam!" Dean was shaking his head but Sam ignored him.

"Five minutes?" Max eyed his step-mother. The chandelier stopped shaking and he seemed somewhat calmer, "Okay, go."

With a glower for Sam, Dean scooped the woman up and carried her up the staircase.

Max and Sam were silent as they watched the two disappear upstairs. They walked into the living room sitting across from each other. Max stared at the letter opener on the side table and used his powers to make it spin slowly on its pointy end.

"Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through…." Sam began.

"That's right, you can't," Max interrupted, petulantly, tears in his eyes. "But don't worry. I'll stop. After my stepmother."

"Max, this has to stop now! You need to let her go," Sam could see that Max remained unconvinced so he tried another tact, "Did she beat you?"

"No, but she never tried to save me either. As far as I'm concerned, she's just as bad as they were!"

"What they did to you…what they all did to you growing up, they deserve to be punished..." Sam tried again.

"Growing up?" Max laughed scornfully," Try last week!" He lifted his shirt exposing a mass of bruises across his chest and right flank. "My dad still hits me. Now, it's just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard I guess."

Sam grimaced in sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said, softly.

"When I first found out I could move things with my mind, it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless but now I had this. So last week, Dad gets drunk. The first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then I knew what I had to do." Max's voice was soft, his eyes staring vacantly behind Sam, as if relieving the abuse.

"Why didn't you just leave?"

"It wasn't about getting away," he glanced at Sam, "Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about...not being afraid. When my Dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?"

Sam thought back to all the arguments he'd had over the years with his father. There was only one answer to that question. "No."

"He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my real Mom's death."

"Why would he blame you for your Mom's death?" Sam asked.

"Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault."

"She died in your nursery?" Sam's eyes widened, his voice reflecting the shock and confusion he felt.

"There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!"

Sam's voice shook as he took a few moments to settle himself, "Listen to me, Max. What your Dad said about what happened to your Mom. It's real."

"What?" Max shook his head in disbelief, becoming more upset.

"It happened to my Mom too, exactly the same only it happened when my sister was a baby. It was in her nursery above her crib and my Dad saw my Mom on the ceiling," Sam said earnestly, a myriad of theories and suppositions bombarding his thoughts as he tried to work out what was going on.

"Your Dad must have been as drunk as mine."

"No, no. It's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers!"

"That's impossible!"

"This must be why I started having premonitions about your family and why Aly's been able to connect to me through our minds," Sam muttered to himself, more than Max. Then, seemingly coming back to himself, he said, "We must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started 1 or 2 months ago, right? Out of the blue?"

"How'd you know that?" Max asked, suspiciously.

"Cause that's when our abilities started too. Yours seem to be more advanced than mine but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, we were chosen?

"For what?" Max sat up straighter.

"I don't know. But my family, we're hunting for your Mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us all. But you gotta let us go, Max. You gotta let your step-mother go."

Max considered for a few moments, but then shook his head, "No. What they did to me. I still have nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!"

Max waved his hand and Sam flew backwards into the hall closet, the door slamming behind him. A tall, heavy cabinet slid in place in front of the door, blocking him in.

"No. Max!" Sam screamed, pounding on the door.

Suddenly, Sam's vision blurred and he was seeing Max kill Dean, shooting him right between the eyes as his brother bodily shielded Alice. Sam came back to himself, gasping and holding his head.

"No!" he yelled in desperation, "NO!"

A wave of pure energy shot through Sam's body, the intensity of it making him temporarily see stars. The loud explosion just outside the door confirmed that the cabinet had actually been blown apart with the force.

Sam froze in shock for a second and then pushed the door opened. He raced up the stairs and burst through the bedroom door in time to see the horrible scenario about to play out. The gun was pointed at Dean and it appeared that it was about to fire.

"No, don't! Don't! Please. Please. Max. Max. We can help you, all right. But this, what you're doing. It's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything!"

Max stared at Sam in anguish, his whole body sweaty and shaking, tears streaming from his eyes. It was a few moments later when his face suddenly brightened and his body relaxed.

"You're right," he said, smiling at Sam and turning away.

It was already too late when Sam realised what he was about to do.

"No!" Sam rushed forward to stop him but Max was already falling to the ground, the gunshot reverberating ominously through the room.

In the aftermath, Mrs. Miller, though in shock and clearly traumatized, was coherent enough to cover for them with the police. She identified them as family friends who had tried to stop Max and even lied about the gun being his. Sam and Dean made an inconspicuous exit as soon as they could.

Sam was, of course, beating himself up over the whole thing. Dean was quick to point out that it wouldn't have mattered what he'd said, Max was too far gone but it didn't seem to matter. Sam didn't reply, staying silent and pensive as they drove back to their motel room. It was about half an hour later, when they were almost done packing up that Sam finally said anything.

"Dean? I've been thinking."

"Well, that's never a good thing," he replied with a small smile.

"I'm serious. Azazael. Why would he kill Mom and Max's mother? I mean, what does he want?"

"I have no idea," Dean stopped packing his duffel and turned to look at his brother.

"Well, I think these abilities have got to be a part of it. Telekinesis, premonitions, psychic mind links- the three of us are connected and who knows, there may be more of us out there."

"I guess it might explain why he took Aly." Dean conceded, thoughtfully. "But to tell you the truth, Sammy, I don't really care what his motivation might be. I care about what this damn thing has done to our family. We're gonna find it and we're gonna kill it. And that's all."

Sam stared at Dean for a second and sighed. Clearly his brother wasn't in the frame of mind to discuss this rationally right now. He was sure there was more to this situation than they realised and he had the sinking suspicion that he knew exactly who they needed to talk to you get to the bottom of it. His mind harkened back to the look on John Winchester's face when he'd first described his powers.

"Dean," he tried again, "I think there's something else I need to tell you."

"Ok." Dean had finished packing, and was about to head out to the Impala.

"When Max left me in the closet downstairs, with that big cabinet against the door ... I moved it."

"Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for."

"No man, I moved it. Like, Max."

Dean stared silently at Sam for a while and then walked over to the mini fridge. Holding up a spoon he said, "Bend this."

"I can't just turn it on and off, Dean."

Dean looked at his brother thoughtfully. "Do you think that Missouri might be able to help you with this? I mean, she gave you tips to try connecting with Aly. Isn't this right up her alley? Hey! Aly, Alley!"

"What are you, seven?" Sam shook his head in exasperation and then sighed, "But you have a point. I'm going to call her from the road."

"Good," Dean nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder and moving toward Sam. "Now then. I know what we need to do about your premonitions once all this is over. Where we have to go."

"Where?" Sam looked at his brother quizzically.

"Vegas!" Dean replied, deadpan. Then he grinned broadly.

Sam glowered at him and they both walked out to Baby. It was time to get some answers.


	19. Chapter 19

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, delacre has written most of this chapter- give her some kudos! A HUGE Thank You to all who have reviewed- we love them, keep them coming! - and also Thank You to those who have favorited and followed this story! It has been very gratifying to see how many people like this!**

 **I just wanted to share with you that delacre has been a big help to me, this is a difficult time of year for me, which always makes my ever-present depression and anxiety worse. And all of the reviews, likes, and follows is a big positive. I've realized that these last few chapters have been hard for me to write because I had an older brother who was troubled and ran away a couple times when I was a kid. It was a very tense time not knowing if and when he was ever coming back- and I've never been able to really read any of the stories about Sam running away to Flagstaff without getting upset. So I'm very grateful that delacre has been willing to step up to the plate and do more right now, because I was dragging my feet without knowing why. And I want to tell this story in the best way possible, and she's been great.**

 **Another big THANKS to Happygoddess2003 for all her support and advice too!**

 **CONTENT AND TRIGGER WARNING: Under-age drinking and assualt with sexual undertones.**

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"So what are you saying?" Dean asked with a mouthful of half-eaten cherry pie.

"I'm saying that I think Dad knows a whole lot more about Azazael than he's been telling us." Sam grimaced as he stared at Dean in disgust.

Dean swallowed. "Sammy, we've been chasing this thing all our lives. It's why Dad started hunting, for God's sake! Why would he hide anything from us?"

"You weren't watchin' him when I first told you guys. The way he looked at me….I just know Dean. And it was the same with Missouri. She said that Aly had hidden depths and it certainly didn't take much to convince her that both of us had abilities. Something is going on, Dean and I think we're entitled to the truth."

"And what if you can't handle the truth?" Dean was wearing a huge, self-satisfied grin. "See what I did there?"

"Ha, ha, Dean, so clever," Sam replied with a bored tone. Most times, it was best not to encourage him.

Dean smiled, unperturbed. "Okay, little brother. I'll back you up with Dad, but don't say I didn't warn you when he tears you a new one."

"I'm not really going to be taking no for an answer, Dean."

"Uh-huh," Dean took a sip of his coffee as he glared at Sam with mild annoyance, "That's 'cause you're never the one who has to play go between and put the pieces back together."

"Choosing the greater good for your family is never a sacrifice," Sam said smugly, finishing the last of his coffee.

"What's that from?" Dean asked, looking puzzled.

"Just something I heard somewhere."

"Obscure references don't count, Sammy," Dean countered snidely, "So when are you going to call Missouri? I'm kinda anxious to see you get your Matilda on."

"Ok, that's about all the pop-culture, movie referencing I can take for one day. I'm gonna talk to Missouri outside, you pay the check."

Sam got up from the booth and headed out to the parking lot, leaving Dean to chuckle to himself in victory. It was no surprise that Missouri, once again, had been expecting his call.

"I guess you know why I'm calling, Missouri? Yeah, I haven't been able to connect with her, have you? No, I wish I knew what it meant too…Listen, Missouri, something else has come up..."

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It was an hour later when they pulled up to the motel. They could see their father's truck in the lot, the lights on in his room. Approaching his door, muffled voices could be heard inside.

"You ready to do this?" Dean asked in a low, even voice.

"I don't think we have a choice," Sam muttered, knocking on the door.

They heard footsteps approaching and it was only a few moments before Bobby opened the door.

"Sam," he nodded, "Dean."

They both dipped their heads in acknowledgement and walked past him. John was at the small dining table, head bent over a laptop.

He looked up at his sons, the frown easing from his face. "Boys," he smiled, as they walked towards him.

"Hey Dad." Dean tossed his duffel to the floor and went over to the mini fridge, pulling out a beer.

Sam stared at his father as he made his way to the table, sitting down across from him.

"How was it? Was there anything to find?" Bobby asked, joining John and Sam.

"Yeah, it was a case," Sam answered, an intense look on his face, "One that hit really close to home."

Dean choked on his beer, spluttering and coughing in the corner as he watched the others.

"Well, guess we're getting right to it," he said to himself. Aloud he apologised and cleared his throat.

Sam glanced at Dean impatiently before turning his eyes back to his father.

"What do you mean, Sam?" John looked up at the sober tone of his son's voice.

"At first we thought it was an angry spirit that was killing off the men in this family, the Millers. I mean, two brothers were murdered by some entity- something clearly supernatural. Or so we thought, at first…"

"At first?" Bobby prompted.

Dean cleared his throat meaningfully and raised his eyebrows at Sam.

John glanced between his sons in anticipation. It was clear that something was eating at Sam, if the angry set of his jaw was anything to go by.

"Yeah, Bobby, at first."

Yes. The pulsing vein in Sammy's forehead was always a dead giveaway.

"Spit it out, Sam."

John figured it would be better to rip the proverbial band-aid off quickly. To be honest, he really wasn't up for one of the knockdown, drag-out arguments he usually had with his son, but clearly Sam was itching for a fight.

"Premonitions, Dad," Sam said through gritted teeth, "That's how we knew about the case in the first place. I saw the first murder before it happened, then the second and then, just before the son could kill his step-mother and Dean…"

"What?!" Bobby exclaimed, shocked. He turned to Dean quickly, who put both hands up in the air and said, "I'm fine!"

"But the strangest part of it," Sam continued as if Bobby had never spoken, "wasn't even really that the stepson was the killer. It was the fact that he was using telekinesis to do it. Apparently, his powers started around the same time as mine and Aly's. Seems that's what happens when you're a baby and your mother gets cut open, pinned to the ceiling and burned alive…"

"All right," Dean was suddenly holding onto to John's arm, "Let's all just calm down!"

At Sam's callous words, his father had risen abruptly from the table, almost knocking it over in the process.

Sam gazed at his father steadily, decidedly not taking the bait. He'd chosen his words purposefully, his father's reaction serving to confirm his suspicions. There was no way that he was going to let John Winchester intimidate or bully his way out of this.

"Be careful, Sam," John warned, his voice tight as he sought to rein in his anger.

Dean stepped away to stand beside Sam's chair when his father's rigid stance had relaxed somewhat. It seemed that Sam had been onto something and now he was more than interested in how this was going to play out. John noticed this defensive positioning and sighed inwardly. He'd somehow managed to antagonize his sons yet again. His recent conversation with Bobby flickered unbidden through his mind. He rolled his shoulders and slowly sat down.

Sam waited a few moments and started again.

"I talked to Missouri. Needed help with my own telekinesis," Sam said nonchalantly, Bobby's sharp intake of breath feeding his passive aggressive beast. "But she refused to answer most of my other questions. She told me I had to ask you, Dad."

Sam paused for a beat. "So, Dad, I'm asking you. Tell me what Dean and I are missing? You know more about this demon than you've told us and it seems obvious that he's somehow connected to these abilities…"

John remained silent, eyes locked on Sam as he studied the furrow of his brow and the rigidity of his face. It seemed he wasn't going to get out of doing this and the realisation pained him. Occasionally, he would find himself staring at his sons on the sly and be transported back to better times when they were innocent, happy little boys- the whole world ahead of them. He often despaired how this life had taken that away from them and how instrumental he had been in setting them on this path.

He glanced at Bobby who nodded imperceptibly at him and closed his eyes.

"How much do you boys remember about the night your mother was killed?"

Dean pulled out the remaining chair from the table and sat down.

"You woke me up 'cause the house was on fire and then you handed Aly to me and told me to run. I went outside to the front yard and you followed a few minutes later with Sam. He was semi-conscious from smoke inhalation. You told me to stay with them and wait for the fire trucks and you ran back in for Mom. The firefighters and police turned up maybe five minutes later and they all but dragged you out. You almost decked one of them but then, there was an explosion. After that, I...I think you knew then that there really was no hope for Mom. When you came back to us, the paramedics were loading Sammy into the back of the ambulance. He was awake and Aly was screaming and I was trying to settle her down and you turned to us with tears in your eyes and you said, "I tried to stop…but she's gone."

Dean's voice was gruff as he took a fortifying breath. "I never really thought about what you meant by that before- "you tried to stop." What did you mean, Dad?"

John cleared his throat and swallowed thickly.

"Azazael," he said hoarsely, "I saw him for a moment, standing over Aly's crib. I looked up. Your…your mother was on the ceiling, bleeding from her abdomen and she just burst into flames. I heard Aly cry but when I looked back at her, he was gone. I picked her up and ran to wake you up, Dean."

"Oh God!" Dean whispered, his voice full of anguish.

"What do you think he was doing with Aly?" Sam's voice was barely audible.

"I think he was feeding her his blood," John replied, "When I was taking her to your brother, I noticed blood on her mouth…"

"I never saw any blood!" Dean interrupted in shock.

"No son, I wiped it off before I got to you."

"Why…?"

"Let him finish," Bobby soothed softly, putting his hand comfortingly on Dean's arm.

"I'd like to say it was because I didn't want to worry you. At least, not without knowing more but I think it had more to do with being scared myself and not wanting to deal with it right then."

They were all quiet for a minute.

"Do you think that's what happened to me?" Sam asked, his voice shaking.

"Yes," his father answered simply. "And to other mothers and babies- like your Michigan case…."

"...And you think that's what's causing us to manifest these powers," Sam finished, nodding his head like his worst fears had been confirmed.

"Okay. Okay," Dean closed his eyes and reopened them, a determined look on his face. "I get everything you've said but none of this makes sense. That kid in Saginaw was Sam's age. He and Sam just started showing these abilities. Why would he start going after a new generation of kids, now? And to what end?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure yet. I don't know what he wants with the kids your age," John nodded at Sam, "but where Aly is concerned, I…I think that's my fault. He knows that we've been after him. I mean, we've been killing demons for years and we've been going after the Colt pretty hard over the past few months…"

"But?" Sam prompted.

"But some of those things were his children. At least, that's what they called themselves. I think he's after Aly as revenge."

"That's what he meant when he told Aly that he wanted her to join his family," Dean interrupted, his voice hard.

Sam sat back in his chair, anger on his face. "You know, you've made chasing this monster the primary mission of our whole lives! I can't believe you didn't trust us with this! If you had, maybe none of this shit would have ever happened in the first place!"

He stood up from the table and started pacing the room. "Aly's a smart girl. She would have been more careful…. _we_ would have been more careful with her!"

John remained stoic in the face of his son's growing resentment. "I realize that now. I….messed up in so many ways. I thought I was doing the right thing, son. I was just trying to protect her- to protect all of you!"

"Yeah, well, your protection may have cost her her life! What if we can't find her? What if she's-" Dean yelled, his voice breaking.

"We'll find her, Dean," Bobby said reassuringly.

"I refuse to believe that anything bad….that she's…" John was afraid to say the word 'dead,' as if saying it would give it power. "She's a strong kid, she'll get through this."

"Is that everything?" Sam turned to him, eyes flashing as he struggled to get hold of himself, "Have you told us everything that we need to know?"

"Yes."

"Good. We have to move forward now. Finding Aly is more important than ever. If he finds out she has these powers, it'll only make her more appealing. We need to get to her first." Sam was all business now. He returned to the table, resolve in his demeanor.

Dean looked mutinous, as if he wasn't ready to let go of the anger with his father so easily. He was about to voice this position when Bobby intervened.

"Now's not the time, boy," he said gruffly, cutting Dean off, "Sam's right. Aly is the only focus now. Stow the rest of it 'til we've found her. After that,you can curse your old man to your heart's content."

John and Dean stared at each other for a long moment then Dean said, "So where do we start?"

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We were dancing in the living room. All of the couches and tables had been moved off to the side and there was a large crowd on the make-shift dancefloor. Tonight's party was the second of the pre end-of-year parties being held by some of Meg's friends in the senior class. It seemed like every senior and junior had turned up to this one. Not surprising, I guess, given that our host, Jason, was apparently the most popular guy in school and captain of the football team. Of course, Nicole, Jerry and Glenn were with Meg and me and we were actually having a good time.

After our talk, Zeke and I had spent the day together. He'd let me drive the Porsche around the grounds for hours, patiently giving me tips and pointers as he corrected my steering , braking and gear shifting. It was thrilling and amazing and it was the best time I'd ever had in my life. Then in the afternoon, when he deemed me roadworthy, we'd hit a few of the surrounding back roads. We'd come home laughing and talking about our day, his arm around my shoulder and me leaning in to him. Then, as we went to wash up ahead of another amazing Rosa dinner, he'd sent me off with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of my head. The whole episode was all the encouragement I'd needed and everything fell into place. I'd decided that it was time to enjoy myself and my new found freedom and now, I was going to party!

Over the past few weeks, I'd found my drink- rum and coke. Nicole called it "old school", I called it effective. I was more than a little tipsy and finding everything funny. That meant that I was currently sipping my third Cuba Libre and belly-laughing at one of Jerry's lamer jokes. What I wasn't finding amusing, in the least, was this guy who kept lurking around our little group all night. On the surface, I was ignoring him but my Winchester instincts had me keeping tabs on him. He'd been getting pretty drunk himself and becoming bolder as the night wore on. Now, he was practically my shadow and any time I barely glanced in his direction, I found him leering at me with a smug, lascivious smirk that made me want to immediately wash the creepy off of me.

Jerry wandered off with Nicole to go smoke outside and Glenn had gone off to talk football with Jason a while ago, leaving Meg and me dancing.

"Hey baby," a deep voice came from right behind me as someone grabbed my arm.

I spun around and there he was. I pulled away but he held on and yanked me towards him, whispering in my ear that he'd been watching me all night and that he wanted to dance with me. I literally almost gagged; his breath stank of cheap beer and cigarettes.

"She's with me, Creeper," Meg said, pulling me away.

"Hey!" he called after me, trying to follow us.

Fortunately, we got lost in a new influx of people coming onto the floor.

"Thanks, Sis!" I said to Meg, rolling my eyes, "What a dick!"

Meg laughed, "Yeah, Scott's a real loser! I think he's tried to get in the pants of every girl at school."

"Yuck," I said, pretending to vomit. We laughed again and then I said, "I need to find the bathroom. Those rum and cokes really run right through me, you know?"

Meg waved me off. "TMI, Rook!"

I laughed at her and headed over to the powder room I'd spotted on the ground floor. The door was locked and after waiting for a few minutes, I gave up and decided to head upstairs. That was certainly easier said than done. It was hot and loud and there were kids everywhere; leaning on the banisters, draped across the top of the stairs and making out against every bit of wallspace. I inched my way through all of them so that by the time I got to the landing, I was finding it really hard not to jiggle up and down. I made my way down the first hallway I came across, trying to guess which closed door might be a bathroom. I was about to backtrack after I'd chosen wrongly and walked into a scene I would never be able to unsee, when I was yanked into a room. I let out a shriek and whipped around to find Creeper Scott, grinning at me like the moron he was. I shoved him away from me, not that he even budged an inch. He pushed the door shut and then grabbed me with both arms.

"I know you want me," he slurred, swaying slightly, his breath again assaulting my nose, "I saw you watching me like I was watching you, baby. You wanted me to come after you, right? Tryin' to make me chase you while you played hard to get?"

"No!" I shouted, "Get away from me, you asshole!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" he hissed in a vaguely threatening voice. He dragged me over to the bed and turned me around, shoving me diagonally across the mattress. It knocked the air out of me when he immediately landed on top of me. I pushed at his chest, but I was only a little over 5 feet tall and he was built like a linebacker. When he realized that I was still resisting, he laughed like it was a joke, grabbed both my wrists in one of his hands, holding them above my head.

I yelped as one of his hands grabbed my throat and began to squeeze.

"Stop it! Get off of me!" I shrieked, my heart pounding as fear seeped through my body.

He wedged his leg in-between mine, shoving them apart roughly and then he bent his head to my ear.

"Come on, baby, your friend's not here to get in the way and we're all alone like you wanted, so stop being such a fucking cock tease!" he whispered, his rancid breath feeling wet on my face, "You know you want this."

He ground his hips into mine.

"You're fucking delusional!" I shouted at him, trying to turn my head away, "Let me up or I'll scream!"

He pulled away to stare into my face and I watched his face morph from smug to all-out enraged. He smashed his mouth down on mine and bit my lip as I cried out and tried to pull away.

"Oh baby, I plan on making you scream all night long." I felt his bruising fingers roughly dragging down my side, my thigh and then back up to my breast.

I tried to buck my hips to free my hands. "GET OFF OF ME!" I screeched, getting ready to start screaming for help.

His free hand left my shirt and came back to squeezing my throat, hard. His intention was all too clear but he told me anyway.

"Shut up, bitch!" he snarled, "You all but begged me for this. So be quiet and enjoy it!"

I bared my teeth at him while trying desperately to suck in air. I managed to convey all the hatred and revulsion I felt for him in my facial expression and in my voice, when I used my remaining breath to yelp a vicious, "Fuck You!" in his face.

He suddenly lifted his hand from my throat and I heaved, coughing as the air rushed unexpectedly into my lungs. Briefly, I hoped I had gotten through to him but then he drew his arm back and I felt his hand crash into the right side of my face. I momentarily saw stars and then he did the same to the left side and I cried out with the pain.

"You'd better be nice to me, bitch, or I might not worry so much about being nice to you….you're a virgin, right?"

His hand around my wrists clamped tighter as he went back to groping me with the other. He started to reach under my shirt and I closed my eyes, the fear and powerlessness overwhelming my mind.

The powerlessness. Somewhere in the back of my subconscious, I knew that that wasn't true. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and I heard something wailing around me, like an animal in its death throes. I felt disconnected from myself, like it was an out of body experience, until I felt the last button of my shirt open.

Then I saw red. I looked to the room beyond us, making out the tall shelves along one wall, full of kids' books and knickknacks; we were likely in Jason's sister's room. I saw the bureau, the mahogany, antique rocking chair and the desk covered in hairbrushes, picture frames and a wooden music box. With black spots covering most of my vision, I reached out with my mind and suddenly the box was hurtling towards the bed. It cracked Scott in the back of the head and he immediately relaxed, collapsing on top of me.

I wrenched myself out from under his body, falling off the bed onto the floor. I looked at Scott, who lay motionless, sprawled over the mattress, seeing little movements that told me he was still breathing. Tears streamed down my face and my head started throbbing. I was hyperventilating, taking in huge gulps of air that I couldn't seem to slow. I felt wobbly standing up, my whole body shaking with the effort and I realized that I was in shock. I clumsily buttoned my shirt and felt my tender face with my hands. There was no way that I wasn't going to be bruised tomorrow. I made my way over and opened the door. The music was still pounding and everyone was still oblivious to what I'd endured just a few feet away. I held the banister as I went down the staircase looking for Meg.

I found her in the kitchen, laughing with Glenn and a couple of other guys as they downed some shots. Her eyes flicked to me when she realized I was standing a few feet away from her.

"Where've you been, Rook? I thought you'd fallen in or something!" she laughed at her own joke as she turned fully towards me. I saw her eyes widen as she gawked at me and I when I looked down at myself, I realized that my shirt was completely misbuttoned and a lot of my abdomen was on show. It must have been obvious, too, that I'd been crying and I could feel that my lip was starting to swell.

"Oh my god, Alyson, what-"

"Scott," I said simply, "He…"

She came at me, a strange mixture of fury and fear in her eyes.

"Friggin' Scott!" Jason shouted, slamming his glass down on the counter.

"Did he…?" Meg asked quietly, her eyes searching mine as she shielded my body from the others and rebuttoned my shirt.

"No," I whispered, "I made...he…there was a musicbox. I…It knocked him out."

She was studying me intently before she said, "I'm glad you got out of there, Rook."

"Which room?" the guy next to Jason asked, his face looked thunderous.

"Your sister's room? The one with the rocking chair." I looked at Jason hesitantly, unsure if I was right. The expression on his face quickly confirmed my assumption.

"Come on," he said, already walking past me, "I'm going to kick his ass! No one messes with girls in my Goddamn house, in my sister's Goddamned bedroom!"

He stormed upstairs, with Glenn and two other guys following him. I heard a door get kicked in and then there was yelling.

Meg looked at me, realizing how the noises from upstairs were upsetting me. "You okay?"

"No, I just want to go home," I replied, my voice hitching as I started to cry again.

"Of course, Sis." Meg wiped my tears away and gave me a little hug. "Let me tell Nicole that she and the boys need to find a ride."

She left for a few moments and then she was putting her arm around my shoulders and guiding us to the front door. Behind me, I could hear Jason's angry voice shouting and another male voice, whimpering and begging; I tuned them both out.

"Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head as I closed the car door. "No. I just want to go take a really hot shower and go to bed."

"It's okay, honey. When you're ready." She patted my knee and then we backed out. "You were so lucky! How did you get a hold of that musicbox…"

"Uhhhh," I hedged. I didn't want to talk and I _really_ didn't know what to say to that, so I just shut up. I glanced at Meg who was already looking at me, her eyes practically burning holes into mine and I could tell that she knew that I was holding something back.

She kept staring at me for a few more moments but then she turned away, concentrating on the road ahead.

The silence made me reflect on a time when I had no secrets. When I was younger, I told Sam pretty much everything; when I was scared of the dark because of the monsters that I knew lurked there, when I had accidentally broken a vase at Bobby's house and was afraid of getting in trouble, and about all those times at school when some of the kids were bullying me. It didn't take a genius to know that when some of them came to school with black eyes or avoided me like the plague, that one or both of my brothers had stepped up and dealt with them. Of course, they'd never admitted that to me.

Now, all I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and never come out again. I knew it was irrational; I hadn't done anything wrong but I felt overwhelming shame and humiliation. Humiliated by what had just happened to me and, paradoxically, shame at this new power which had saved me yet branded me a freak.

I was lost in these thoughts when I realized we had made it home. Meg was out of the car and opening my door before I'd even taken off my seatbelt. Then she was leading me into the house, holding and squeezing my hand.

I took great comfort in the small gesture and I smiled at her when she finally let go.

"Meg."

We both looked up to see Zeke standing on the top of the staircase, a dressing gown over his pajamas and a hard look on his face. It was his eyes though, they were cold and angry and I found myself shrinking back a little, though I tried not to show it.

Meg glanced at me briefly and I could see a flash of fear on her face, though she schooled her features quickly. She began climbing up the stairs as Zeke looked at me with a warm smile that turned apologetic.

"I just have to talk to Meg for a minute, Aly. Why don't you go on up to bed and then one of us will come check on you, okay?"

Clearly, somehow, Zeke had found out about what had happened at the party. I was so mortified by that realization that I ducked my head, remaining involuntarily rooted to the spot.

Zeke said my name again softly and I looked up at him and nodded. I hurried up the staircase, Zeke stopping me to take in the bruising on my face. His jaw twitched but all he did was draw me to him and kiss me on the top of my head. I returned the sideways hug, drawing myself into him and taking what little comfort I could. It wasn't enough. Meg opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. He let me go and I walked to my room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

In no time at all, I was under the water in the shower, hoping that the heat would help loosen my stiff muscles. I had glanced in the mirror as I was undressing. There were bruises along my right side, my throat and my swelling face. My sore wrists were purple with the obvious outline of Scott's fingers. It had made me angry and I'd hurled my shirt clear across the room, not wanting to _ever_ feel its material touch my skin again. I practically dove into the shower cubicle, wanting to wash his 'stink' off me.

I spent 5 minutes just letting the water hit me before I even reached for the soap. Then I scrubbed my body over and over again; I kept feeling his body on mine. I kept feeling his hands on me. It seemed I couldn't use enough soap to wash those feelings away. When my skin was actually starting to burn from the combination of the water temperature and my efforts, I shut off the shower, toweled off and left the bathroom.

I made my way slowly to my dressing table, my eyes drawn to myself in the mirror. The view hadn't improved at all and I closed my eyes as I started crying again. I had to bite my fist to keep myself from all out sobbing, not wanting anyone else to hear me. I stared again at the mirror, my vision blurred by the tears. I was about to turn away, when I saw him. It was Sam and he was standing behind me, staring at me as if he'd never seen me before.

"Sam!" I whispered, turning slowly hoping against hope that he was really there. Of course he wasn't and it made me feel worse. I started crying harder as I turned to the mirror again. Maybe I could….

I felt the now familiar pressure in my head and I called his name softly, as I reached for him with my mind.

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Sam was fast asleep in bed but he knew it as sure as he could feel the pillow beneath his head- Aly was upset. More than upset, really. She was despondent and terrified. He had seen her face in some fancy mirror, the room reflected behind her distastefully…flowery. His sister's lip was swollen and she had obviously been crying for a while; her eyes red and extremely swollen. Something terrible had obviously happened. He felt her torrential cascade of mixed emotions- panic, fear, revulsion, shame, anger- it was almost overwhelming and strangely painful. He felt like someone was strangling him and he began to choke as he tried to catch his breath. Then he felt a sense of claustrophobia, as if something or someone was looming over him and a horrifying thought came to him.

"Oh my God! Had Aly been…assaulted?"

Immediately, he tried to reach out to her, projecting as much comfort and love as he could. He heard himself repeating the same phrase over and over in his head.

"Whereareyouwhereareyouwhereareyou?"

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My head felt like it was going to split open. I knew Sam was with me. I could feel his energy blanketing me in pure love and I felt an amazing warmth soak through me. Then, I heard him chanting a phrase which took me a few seconds to decipher- "Where are you?"

I could feel his underlying fear as he repeated it over and over. It made me dizzy and I found myself stumbling over to my bed, passing out as my head pounded and my tears slowed. I knew I was dreaming when I relived memories of times that Sam had held me and comforted me in the past, and I cried out his name in longing, wanting my big brother to be there to tell me that everything would be okay, as he'd done so many times before.

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Meg closed the door quietly. Aly seemed deeply asleep but she was very restless, tossing and turning and calling out a name softly in her sleep. It sounded like "Sam."

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His laugh was a full throated bellow, his full head of salt and pepper hair bobbing up and down with the effort. The older lady he was looking at was sitting at a large oak dining table. She too was laughing, her arm reaching out to hold his as she tried to get hold of herself. I could tell that they'd been married for many years, both so comfortable in each other's company. It made me smile in my sleep. She mentioned something about the picture she was holding out to him and he gave a few final chuckles. I couldn't make out much of it myself, but it seemed like it involved a baby and a dog; somehow I knew it was one of their grandchildren.

I could see around the room. It was clearly a farmhouse and it was beautiful. It was well lived in; anyone could see that a family had been started, raised and nurtured here. It practically screamed happiness. I sighed in my sleep, absorbing the feeling as deeply as I could. The couple began to talk again about something else but I found myself concentrating on a noise in the distance.

It was the sound of footsteps coming up the porch, the opening of the screen door and the doorbell being rung. They quieted for a second and then the man stood, intending to see who was there. He looked so familiar to me and as I watched him head to the foyer, I tried to remember where I'd seen him before. His wife started clearing their coffee mugs from the table, while he opened the door. Caught up in trying to place the old man, I almost missed when he let two men into the house. They were informing him about something to do with a gas leak in the local area and he was leading them over to a door in the kitchen that led to the basement.

His wife had just offered the men some coffee, when all of a sudden, one of them pulled out a knife and stabbed the old man in the back. The woman screamed as the second one moved quickly behind her and drew a knife across her throat. She was practically decapitated, such was the viciousness of the attack. The old man cried out in a clear combination of fear and anguish, reaching for her hand as he called her name, Jenny. The first man, leaned over him and chuckled, his tone full of menace. I couldn't see what he did, but I knew that the old man stopped moving immediately, his hand still outstretched never having made it to his wife's.

I cried out in my sleep for these people. Why was I seeing this? The two men turned on the oven and the pilots on the stove, blowing out the flames. Obviously, they were going to keep up the gas leak story. It wasn't 3 minutes later when they were running out of the house to their Gas Company van. As they were speeding away, the house exploded and I jumped from the unexpected bang. As I continued to view the horrifying scene, wishing I would just wake up from this nightmare, I finally realised who the man was. It was Andy, the lovely grandfather who had given me a ride the night I had fled from my family. I moaned, feeling the tears on my face even as I slept. What was going on?

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"Aly!" Sam woke up in the bed next to his brother's, distraught.

Dean didn't move as he opened his eyes in the darkness.

"You know, I think it's time we had a discussion about sleeping in separate rooms," he murmured, sleepily.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, his voice strangled.

Alarmed, Dean sat up in a rush, switching on a bedside lamp. "Sammy?" he called.

His brother was already sitting on the side of his bed, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Are you crying?" Dean asked incredulously, "What the hell, Sam? Is it Aly? What's wrong?"

"It's not her, she's banged up but okay," Sammy replied, and Dean sighed in relief, "I…I think she just had a premonition…"

"How can you tell that? And what do you mean, banged up? Come on, Sam, give me something!"

"Someone named Andy is about to die," he answered ominously, "and if we can get to him first, he might be able to help us find Aly."


	20. Chapter 20

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **My apologies, dear readers, for the length of time it took for us to publish this chapter.** _ **delacre**_ **and I live on different continents, so getting our schedules to sync up as we are working on the story can be hard... In honor of this being the 20** **th** **chapter, we made it an extra long one, and I even broke it into 2 parts because of its length. I never imagined when I started the story that it would become so popular and that I'd be able to keep writing it for this long, so I am thrilled and amazed that we've made it this far! And Thank You again to everyone who has reviewed and followed and shared this story on their pages! Please let us know what you think of the latest developments! Buckle up...**

CONTENT WARNING: **Brief mentions of assault that occurred in the previous chapter.**

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I came awake slowly the next morning, the sun streaming through the window at the foot of my bed. It took effort to open my heavy eyes; I was feeling more tired than if I hadn't slept at all. I had a headache, of course and I was stiff all over. The left side of my face was tight and swollen but at least, this time, my eyes weren't involved. A black eye had been easy to hide with the right cosmetics before, but somehow I doubted the same would be true with a swollen mouth and cheek. Blithely, I thought to myself that I'd need to enroll in Meg's advanced makeup class to get through this one.

I started to sit up gingerly, expecting my muscles to start protesting immediately. As I turned my head towards the bedroom door, I let out a shriek, my heart pounding out of my chest. Meg was standing in the open doorway staring at me in silence, a look I'd never seen before on her face.

She was glaring at me with cold eyes that were figuratively drilling into my head. I shut my mouth and blinked stupidly for a second.

"Meg?" I called, my voice betraying my confusion, "What are you doing?"

She didn't speak for a few seconds but then she crossed her arms over her chest and stomped over to me. Instinctively, I found myself sitting up and adopting a defensive position; feet on the floor ready to move at a moment's notice with all soreness forgotten. Honestly, it was really disturbing the way she still hadn't said anything so I called her name again, warily.

"I came in to see how you were, actually." Her tone was subtly hostile, like she was trying to be civil but failing.

It was my turn to study her for a moment before I asked, "What do you mean?"

Meg sighed dramatically, as if it was perfectly obvious what she was talking about which I guess, it was. Yet what she said next surprised me.

"I heard you crying out for a 'Sam' in your sleep last night. Isn't he one of those brothers you ran away from?"

Woah! Of course I'd been the subject of Meg's ire before, not to mention a witness to her epic smackdown of Nicole but, after all that had transpired the previous night, I had no idea why the mention of my brother would have inspired such animus from her.

"Yeah, he is," I answered apprehensively.

"Uh-huh, I thought so," she said, her eyes flashing, "You know, Alyson, I don't believe you! Maybe it's because you're still a kid. Maybe _that's_ why you're so selfish."

I let out a bark of incredulous laughter but Meg continued unabated.

"From the time I met you, _literally met you,_ my family has been nothing but generous and supportive. That loser in the parking lot, our home, all the clothes and food you could want, my friends…..Dad even taught you how to drive! We've treated you like family, Alyson! I mean, I've shared my _father_ with you! And we've done all of this, _all of it,_ without asking for anything in return! And then last night…last night happens. I try to be there for you but you won't talk to me. You certainly won't explain how you managed to get away from that asshole, Scott! And then the next thing I know, my father rakes me over the coals for a full two hours, telling me how disappointed he was in me for being so irresponsible and not protecting my little sister. He says he's seriously considering a re-evaluation of all the freedoms I've been enjoying these past 16 years! After all that, I come to check on you, feeling _so_ guilty, and I hear you crying out for _him!"_

Meg spat the last word out like she found it physically distasteful.

I didn't make a sound as Meg began pacing.

"We've given you _everything,_ and in your time of need, all you can think of is turning to them. Clearly they weren't good enough for you or you wouldn't have run away and decided to stay with us. Y _ou_ left _them_ , Alyson. Dad says you talked about your reasons with him but he won't give me any details. Said it was between the two of you. How come you've never shared any of that with me? I mean, I had to guess the name of your brother just now! And I know you've been keeping other secrets, like how you got out of the locked Security office at the mall. Is that why you won't tell me anything about them? Is your family a bunch of criminals? Did they teach you how to pick locks or something?"

After sneering that intended insult, she finally paused to take a breath. She looked at me then, saying in a quiet voice, "I hadn't really thought about it before last night but it's obvious you don't trust me, Alyson. And that hurts…it really does!"

Meg had finally ended her rant. She'd started crying halfway through, hugging herself and looking miserable by the end.

I was stunned for a moment, not really knowing what to say. I'd never actually considered any of this from her perspective and she had made some really good points. It was true; I'd only ever opened up to Zeke and even then, I'd been guarded. I didn't think that that was going to change anytime soon, but maybe I _could_ share more benign Winchester stories from now on. I looked at her, regretfully, standing up and hugging her to me. She resisted slightly at first, but then she put her arms around me too and we just stood there for a while.

Eventually, I pulled away and whispered to her, "You're right, Meg, I _have_ been selfish. Honestly? I just didn't know what my place was here, even though I know that you and Zeke have been trying to make me feel like a part of the family. I guess I really didn't trust it, at least at first."

She sniffled a little, but it was clear I had her full attention. She took my hand and led me over to the bed where we sat down beside each other.

"I...I've had a hard time finding my place in my family also…that's basically why I left. And it's true that I've talked to Zeke a bit about my past but it's still so raw and I..I'm just not ready yet. I suppose I've been so caught up in my own head that I never really thought about how my presence has changed your life. I love you, Meg. Being here has made me _so_ happy and you're a major part of that."

Meg smiled tremulously at me and I held her hand for a few minutes. She stopped crying in that time and then, with genuine concern now, she asked how I was again. Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief that she seemed to have accepted my apology, though I hadn't actually given her any of the answers she'd been looking for. It had been difficult enough opening up to Zeke. I felt too embarrassed to even consider discussing Winchester punishment methods with a girl whose father let her roam free. Well, not as freely as I'd thought. Meg had mentioned that Zeke had chewed her out over not watching out for me at the party and just like that, the memories of Scott assailed me. I let her hand go, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe as I relived the feel of his tight grip on my throat and of his hands running over me. I began to hyperventilate, barely hearing Meg as she called out to me in alarm. I vaguely saw her head out to the hallway where she called out for Zeke. It was only a few moments later that they were both comforting me. My face was buried in Zeke's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he whispered that everything was going to be okay and that he would make sure that Scott was taken care of. I didn't really question what he meant by that and frankly, I didn't care. At this moment, I needed his reassurance and his strength. Eventually, he let go and I barely caught myself before I reached back out for him. He stroked my hair a few times, a soft smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. I could tell that there was anger brimming underneath and I drew back a little, hoping it wasn't directed at me. I needn't have worried though. The look he gave to Meg suggested exactly who bore the brunt of his ire. Seeing that just made me feel all the more guilty.

A little calmer and indeed, braver now, I asked Zeke how he'd known about last night. He glared at Meg the whole time he answered.

"Nicole thought it prudent that I know what was going on. I'm just glad she had the presence of mind to contact me immediately. I know that Jason and the other boys….had a ' _discussion'_ with Scott, but I'll be following that up with a _heart-to-hear_ t of my own. No one... _no one_ touches what's m…my girls."

It worried me the way Zeke was talking. Meg looked completely cowed and refused to look at her Dad. I was afraid that he was going to take it too far when he got ahold of Scott and I didn't want him getting into any trouble because of me. I reached for him then, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly so I could get all of his attention.

"Please, Zeke, don't do anything to him! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. What if his parents call the police or something? He's not worth it, Zeke! Please? I can't lose you…." By the end, I was almost hysterical in my desperation to make him understand how much he was scaring me.

He looked startled at first, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing but then he used my hand to drag me back to him, wrapping me tightly to his chest again.

"My little Aly," he said quietly, "You're mine, sweetheart. You're my special little girl. I won't let anything keep us apart." He tightened his arms around me even more and I did the same to him. "So I promise…I promise I won't do anything to him. Don't worry, okay?"

"Thank you, Zeke. Thank you!"

"Dad?" Meg asked hesitantly behind me.

Zeke sighed and I felt one of his arms leave me. He was reaching out to Meg in invitation. She slammed into the back of me, her arms surrounding us both in a crushing hug. She was sobbing with obvious relief, happy to have been forgiven. Zeke leaned over, stretching to kiss both of us on our foreheads in turn. I felt the tiniest bit of my guilt lift but I was still really worried about what Meg had said to me earlier. Somehow, I needed to find a way to make this up to her.

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Zeke had stayed with us for a bit before he'd excused himself to make a phone call. We'd remained in that hug for a few more minutes until reality reared its ugly head and I'd felt a full body pain and stiffness I never had before. I tensed up immediately and I felt Zeke do so as well as he pulled away from me. He studied me for a moment and then I saw understanding in his face.

"Are you in pain, Aly?" he asked softly, pushing my hair back.

I closed my eyes and nodded, not really wanting to talk about it but knowing that I wasn't going to get away with that- not with him. He had a way of making me feel so safe that it was hard not to do anything he asked me.

I nodded, tears reforming in my eyes. He touched the bruising on my neck lightly and then he said, "Show me."

I sat back a bit and then tentatively raised enough of my t-shirt that he could see the bruising along my side. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly and his mouth formed a tight line. Taking my hands in his, he turned them over, looking at the bruising along my wrists and running his thumbs over them. Then he let me go, giving Meg a withering glance before he focused a sympathetic look towards me.

"Do you think you need to see a doctor, honey?"

I thought about it for a minute. Winchesters never sought medical help unless they were dying and even then, we knew people like Calvin who shielded us and other hunters from unnecessary contact with mainstream authorities. I knew that nothing was broken and that I just needed time. Maybe a painkiller or two. I shook my head.

"No. I'm just a little bruised. I…I really only need some ice, some Tylenol and maybe, to take it easy today."

"You're sure?" Zeke asked, "I can have my personal Internist here within the hour…"

"No, it's okay, honest," I smiled at him, feeling blessed once again for having found such caring people.

"Alright. If you change your mind or you notice any new symptoms or increased pain, I want you to tell me right away. Or Meg." He looked over at Meg who'd remained quiet this whole time.

"I will, I promise," I replied.

He kissed my forehead again and stood up. He mentioned us coming down for breakfast and needing to make a phone call. He briefly touched Meg on the shoulder and left.

She looked lost in thought when I turned to her but she quickly came back to herself and smiled at me.

"I think I'm going to take a shower," I said quietly to her. I didn't want to upset the delicate truce that we'd established so I was wary as I waited for her reaction.

"It's okay, Rook," she said, reaching over to hug me, _"We're_ okay. I'm sorry I went crazy on you. I don't know what was wrong with me. When I think about all that that creep could have done to you or forced you do last night, it just turns my stomach. I…I'm just so sorry!"

Her words set me off again, a cold frisson of fear shooting down my spine. Images of being held down by my wrists, so tightly that I thought they would snap, of his touch, so rough that it repeatedly bruised my side, of his hand around my neck, squeezing ….

My breathing hitched and I started to cough and splutter. Meg pulled back from me abruptly, her eyes frantically searching my face. She wrapped herself around me more tightly, rocking from side to side.

"Calm down, little sister," she said, her voice tearful yet comforting at the same time. "I'm here, Dad's here. Nothing will hurt you ever again, we won't let it."

I didn't say anything but the words sunk in just a little. Though it seemed like I'd been embracing her for a lifetime, her tight hold on me never wavered once and a sense of protection washed over me. Feeling embarrassed, I pulled back and wiped away my tears. Meg raised her eyebrows in question and I nodded. Yes, I was better now. She excused herself and said she would be waiting for me downstairs in the kitchen.

After she'd left, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I really needed to get a hold of myself. I stood up slowly and made my way to the bathroom. The heat helped a bit at first but the longer I stayed in the shower, the more the monotonous sound of the spray let my brain focus on the past 24 hours. Guilt, mixed with denial, entwined with physical pain- it all came to the fore and my vision blurred. I could hear myself screaming and sobbing at the same time. I could only pray that the rest of the house couldn't hear me. No one could see me like this…again. I didn't want to _be_ this person and certainly not because of a loser like Scott.

I stopped crying suddenly as that thought replayed in my mind. He WAS a loser. In fact, Scott was a complete and total asshole! Why the hell was I letting someone like him torment me? I put my head under the spray again and washed my face. I was determined not to have a breakdown over the world's biggest douchebag!

With sharp angry movements, I got out of the shower, dried off and stomped back out to my room. My body complained as I carelessly threw myself around but I didn't care. I was going to use this righteous anger. I had a new family who had more than proven how much they loved and cherished me. They would help me through this and I would get on with my life.

Wearing one of my favourite summer maxi dresses that Meg had bought for me, I made my way to the kitchen. Meg beamed when she saw me, offering me an espresso as soon as I reached her.

"You look so pretty, Rook," she said, "It's almost like someone with amazingly great taste helped you pick that dress out or something!"

She pressed the cup in my hand, kissing my temple and whispering that she knew I probably had a migraine and that she hoped the coffee would help. I smiled gratefully at her and took a sip. It was like heaven. I looked around. Rosa was making pancakes at the built-in griddle and the smell of the cinnamon and the warmth of the espresso was making me feel almost human again. I walked through the dining room to the large wooden sliding glass doors that led out to the patio. It was going to be a lovely summer day. Despite the early hour, it was already warm but I could feel a cool breeze sweeping across the grounds as I opened one of the doors and stepped outside.

I sipped at my drink and smiled. Yeah, I could do this. I stood out there for a few minutes, using the stunning view to center myself. I came back to the kitchen when Rosa called for me. Two Tylenols and three cinnamon apple pancakes smothered with maple syrup and butter later, I was feeling content and hopeful. My new mantra- 'You can do this' kept replaying in the back of my mind. I knew that if I said it often enough, I might actually come to believe it- eventually. I was about to ask Meg what she was planning to do that morning when she got a call on her cell phone.

"Hello Nicole," she answered, hostility in her voice, "...No, of course not, I always make time for traitorous tattletales."

She looked up at me and rolled her eyes as she listened. At the mention of Nicole, my tentative optimism evaporated and I felt my pulse quicken. I remembered what Zeke had said earlier. Nicole, who probably still hated my guts, had told him what had happened at Jason's last night. I could feel my anxiety rise as the conversation continued. Meg had put her finger to her lips and put Nicole on speaker. It seemed that a number of rumors had already been circulating around the students; Jason, Glenn and the others had done a number on Scott. He'd visited the E.R. but fortunately for them, hadn't needed to be admitted. His parents had been livid but Zeke had intervened sometime while I'd been asleep and the whole family had gone underground. Apparently, the couple had wasted no time in shutting up their house and taking off for parts unknown. Scott, who no one had seen after his discharge, had been sent to his grandparents for the summer.

I glanced at Meg who was staring back at me her eyes bright and attentive. She gave me a thumbs-up, obviously happy to hear what had happened to Scott. She opened her mouth to say something but Nicole interrupted.

"But I guess the worst of it, is about Alyson."

Even though her voice sounded grave, I could tell that Nicole was enjoying herself.

"Some of the juniors are saying that they were sure they saw her flirting with the guy all night and agreeing to meet him upstairs. Jillian Roy and those fake bitches that she hangs out with are swearing up and down that they could hear everything through the door and it sounded like Alyson was into it. Afterwards, when she realised how much of a little slut the whole sordid episode was going to make her seem, she got cold feet and decided to cry rape. You know that Jillian is Scott's cousin's friend's step-sister and when she saw what Jason and the others did to Scott, you couldn't shut her up about what a skank Alyson was. She despatched the rest of her bitch squad to spread it around and well, you know how they are."

I felt a wave of nausea well up inside me as I gasped in horror. This couldn't be happening! I hadn't asked for any of this! I know that Scott had accused me of leading him on but that was ridiculous. I racked my brain trying to remember any possible glance, gesture- _anything_ that could have made him feel that I was flirting. Once I'd realised that he'd basically been stalking me around the dancefloor, I'd been watching out for him, sure, but had he taken that as some sort of permission? Well, clearly the answer to that was, yes. Hadn't he told me as much? Hell, I could still smell his stinking breath from when he'd basically said so. I gagged. I couldn't listen to any more of this. I jumped up from the table, knocking over the last of my orange juice and ran to my room. I barely made it to the toilet before I wasn't retching up breakfast. A few unpleasant moments went by before I felt a hand reach past me to turn on the tap. A cool, very welcomed washcloth soon covered the back of my neck and then I saw Zeke's hands come around my shoulders and draw my hair back as I continued to be sick.

"It's okay, little one." His tone was so soothing, "You're going to be okay."

When I was finished, he gave me a glass of water to rinse out my mouth and then, picking me up like I weighed nothing, carried me over to my bed.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not able to look him in the eyes, "This is all my fault!"

"No Rook," Meg's voice came from beside me. She'd been waiting on the bed for me. I turned towards her and began crying on her shoulder. Seemed like I was going to spend most of today cradled in someone else's arms. Given how confused and scared I was feeling right now, I couldn't say that I really cared. My mind was so cloudy, like nothing would ever make sense again and I just didn't feel safe.

Zeke patted my back, trying to reassure me. It almost worked. When my tears had subsided enough for me to finally take a full breath and blow my nose, Zeke told Meg that they should leave so I could rest. The thought of being in this room alone nearly triggered panic in me again. I begged for Meg to stay with me, clawing at her shirt when she got off the bed. They shared an unreadable look above me and though the shame and humiliation of acting like a 14 year old toddler was burning through me, I didn't care. I couldn't be alone, not for one more second. She laid back down and hushed me, telling me to go to sleep and reassuring me that she would be there when I woke up. Zeke kissed us both and squeezed my hand before leaving, his cell phone held up to his ear as he closed the door.

Soon after, I feel asleep, my head resting on Meg's shoulder.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I could tell that it was early evening when I woke up. It was still light outside but there were long shadows cast around the room. I began to stretch and then the spasms started. I sighed in resignation, already sick to death of this pain. Bleary-eyed, I looked around suddenly realising that I was by myself. It took me a second but then I felt it. The panic. I couldn't breathe. I scrambled to get out of bed, planning on going to find Meg but I found myself almost landing head first onto the floor. I shrieked as my hands slammed onto the carpet, breaking my fall. My legs were tangled in the bedclothes and it took me a few minutes to extricate myself because my brain wouldn't focus long enough to figure out how to do so. I cried out for Meg once I'd finally crawled towards the door; I felt like my legs wouldn't be able to support me if I tried to get up.

Through my haze of tears, I wrenched it open and screamed for her again. I heard a voice off in the distance and then the sound of running footsteps. Meg was there within seconds, hauling me off the floor and frantically checking me over to see if I was hurt. When she realised that I was just frightened, a fact I managed to explain to her through my hyperventilating and sobbing, she led me back to bed and helped me to lay down.

"I'm sorry, Rook, if I'd known I wouldn't have left, I swear," she murmured apologetically.

"Please, I just don't want to be alone," I begged, "I…I just feel so lost."

"You've got nothing to be ashamed of," she whispered, running her hand through my hair, "It doesn't matter what the other kids think of you. I mean, everyone knows Scott's reputation. It'll all blow over anyway. No one will remember after the summer's over and then when we go to school next year, no one will dare mess with you while you're with me"

"Oh God, I never even thought of that. The whole school will know who I am before I've even stepped foot through the door!" I cried on her shoulder, "And he'll be there too. I'll have to see him every day!"

"It'll be okay, Alyson. We're your family now. Dad and I love you and we're here to protect you. We believe in you and we know you'll get through this. Dad said he could tell you were a strong kid from the first time he saw you. He expects great things from both of his girls. You're a Masters now, Rook and a meathead like Scott is NOT going to stand in the way of that."

It was an inspiring speech but it fell on deaf ears. All I could feel was burning humiliation at the idea that, in our small affluent community, where all the kids went to the same fancy private school and everyone made it their mission in life to know everyone else's business, there was no way that all this would just _blow over._ _Everyone_ was going to know what Scott had to done to me, well, the Jillian Roy version anyway and then I would have to endure the rumors and the judgement and the jeers and the knowing glances. I'd been through similar stuff before, but this was on a whole new level. Those entitled, elitist kids would take one look at me, decide that I'd never be one of them and treat me like an outsider forever.

"Please Meg, I just want to sleep. Just stay with me while I sleep."

She stared down at me for a second, her brows furrowed as she searched my face. I guessed she was trying to see if she'd gotten through to me. She refrained from saying anything else; I'm sure my pathetic expression made her hesitant to do so. She just drew me tighter and kissed the top of my head. I closed my eyes. My mind wouldn't stop racing from one horrible thought to the next. If I could just get to sleep….

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"So who do you think he is?" Bobby asked, as Dean started unpacking Styrofoam containers from the nearby Chinese restaurant.

"I'm not really sure," Sam replied, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and reaching for the chicken dish he'd ordered, "Whoever he is, I got the impression that Aly's just met him recently. Maybe he helped her on the road. Regardless, I've got Ash looking up that partial plate I got from the Gas Company's van."

"Yeah, it's a pity your Spidey senses didn't help you remember to write down the name of the county the van's from," Dean offered, licking his fingers. He'd already managed to polish off two spring rolls before Sam had even had his first bite.

"Dean," John said, shaking his head, "leave some for the rest of us."

"Mmm hmm," Dean nodded, half-way through his third.

Bobby chuckled, gathering a plate for himself and John shook his head in exasperation.

"I'm pretty sure that Spiderman's 'senses' don't work that way, Dean," Sam sighed, "Anyway, he said he'd have something for us today. When it comes in, how do we want to play this?"

"I think Sam and I should go in as F.B.I. agents tracking down a missing kid. You say your Spidey sense didn't tingle when she was thinking about him, right?" John smirked at Dean who rolled his eyes, "so I expect he'll be cooperative. If we want to save that couple though, we're going to need to stake out the house as soon as we find it. That's where Dean and Bobby come in."

"If those visions were accurate, that's gonna be a pretty tall order," Bobby piped in, "Wide open spaces don't really provide a lotta cover."

"You'll think of something," Sam said, seriously, "Look guys, this is the closest we've been to tracking her down. We can't screw this up and let the opportunity slip through our fingers. Not with Azazael out there."

The others were silent for a minute. The last few weeks had been pretty rough for all of them. They were still reeling from John's revelations and it had been clear that since then, Sam had been feeling an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for finding his sister, given his new understanding of their unusual, disturbing shared bond.

Sam had refused to say anymore as to why he thought that Aly had been hurt after his last mutual vision, explaining it away as him getting his wires crossed because this _thing_ wasn't an exact science. Instead, he spent almost every waking hour on his laptop, trying to track down other affected families, looking for patterns in previous encounters with demons that might have had possible connections to Azazael and having secret conversations with Missouri. He'd usually disappeared to have those, refusing to share just exactly what they had been talking about, no matter how much Dean pestered him.

John, having felt wholly responsible for his son's near unhealthy obsessiveness, had defended Sam's behaviour unequivocally. He hadn't been very subtle when he'd told Dean to back off and when Bobby had suggested that Sam's running himself ragged wasn't actually going to help anyone in the long run, John had told him to do the same. Bobby had acquiesced but not before calling John an idjit who was letting his guilt get in the way of doing what was right for his son. John had told him exactly where he could put his drugstore Psychology degree.

As Dean was trying to sneak away another spring roll, earning himself a rather harsh slap on the back of the hand from Bobby, Sam's phone rang. He muttered something unintelligible to them and got up.

"Is it Ash?" Dean glared at Bobby while rubbing out the sting.

"No," Sam answered simply, heading out of the room.

"I sure wish he would tell us what the hell they're pow-wowing about," Dean said, staring after his brother.

"Dean."

"Yeah Dad, I know, okay? Don't ask, don't...ask, right?"

"Don't think that's the way that saying goes, boy," Bobby said, taking a sip of his beer.

"Well apparently it does for Sammy." Dean eyed his Dad, who tacitly ignored him and continued eating.

About 10 minutes later, Sam returned looking dishevelled, like he'd just run a sprint. Dean and John looked up while Bobby cleared his throat, turning to face the door.

"Yes, it was Missouri," he said, taking his seat. He began eating the last of his meal.

Dean looked at him askance, raising his hands in exasperation. John shook his head and, directing another glare at the rest of them, got up to get another beer. Dean sighed deeply; this 'sounds of silence' crap was getting old fast.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

The hammering woke me the next morning. It came as no surprise that I did so with a tremendous headache. I hadn't had anything to eat in almost 36 hours and from the way my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, it was clear that I was dehydrated as well.

"Meg?"

Again, I found the bed empty beside me and the rush of fear hit me instantaneously. I couldn't believe how ridiculous I was becoming. It took me a full 10 seconds of terror before I could hear the sound of the water from the shower. The dread abated somewhat and I was able to take a few slow breaths that helped calm me. I made my way off the bed, careful of my battered body and walked to the bathroom door. I could hear Meg inside humming. She was actually pretty good and it brought a smile to my face. I leaned on the door, trying to be as quiet as I could. I didn't want her to know how much more of a desperate coward I could be. She'd seen more than enough of that yesterday. Despite my current state, I was determined to be stronger today. I was better than this.

Meg had gone through at least three rounds of '99 bottles of beer' before the water switched off. I barely made it back to the bed before she came out wearing a fluffy terry cloth robe and a towel wrapped around her head.

"You're awake," she said with surprise, as she walked in.

"Uh, yeah," I paused, looking down at my feet and then clearing my sore throat, "Thanks for staying with me last night. I don't know what..I mean, I'm not…"

"It's okay, little sis," she smiled brightly at me, "it's my job to….Jesus, could they be any louder?"

The hammering, which somehow I had managed to forget in my terror, was instantly overbearing.

"What's going on?"

"Dad is, uh, having some work done on the house this weekend."

"Really?" I was genuinely surprised. He'd never mentioned anything about it before.

Meg turned away from me. "Yeah. Kind of like, uh, emergency repairs."

She began to towel dry her hair, walking to my dressing table and looking in the mirror as she ran her fingers through it. I scoffed inwardly about just how bad a liar she was. She was shooting me furtive glances in the mirror, trying to see if I was buying her answer or not.

"Come on, Meg," I huffed, "Tell me what's REALLY going on."

"Honestly, Alyson, I don't…."

A knock on the door halted whatever other piece of fiction she was about to spin.

The sudden noise startled me. "Come in?" I growled in annoyance.

We both whipped our heads towards the door as it opened. It was Zeke carrying a tray of food. The amazing smell of Rosa's huevos rancheros wafted ahead of him, making my stomach growl furiously. I clutched my abdomen as the hollow feeling of hunger cut through me and I apologised, embarrassed.

Zeke chuckled a little and put the tray down on the dressing table by Meg.

"Hello sweetheart," he smiled at her, kissing her forehead.

"Morning, Dad," she beamed at him.

"Aly, honey?" his voice became a little louder as the hammering resumed.

"Hi Zeke," I replied, shyly. It was hard not to feel self-conscious when I remembered how he'd help hold my hair as I'd thrown up the day before.

He came over, hugging and kissing me before he said, "I'm sorry about all the noise. I know you've probably still got your headache and all the construction won't help that."

"What's going on?"

"Just some emergency repairs, honey, both inside and outside of the house. It'll only be for two or three days, maximum. I asked them to work overtime to get it over and done with so they _may_ even end up finishing a bit early."

"But why haven't you…"

"No more questions, young lady," he interrupted, good-naturedly, "You haven't eaten anything in more than a day and right now, I want you to sit down and eat your eggs before they get cold. Rosa made them especially for you because she knows how much you love them."

I looked at my feet, my heart warming instantly at his calling me, 'young lady'. It was such a paternal thing to say and it felt glorious to hear it from Zeke.

"Okay," I agreed easily.

"Then, I want you and Meg to come down and spend some time out of this room. I don't care what you do. Bake some cookies, laze around in the living room, anything you want, all right? Just keep in mind that the grounds are off limits for now and so is the media room. I don't want either of you getting underfoot, understand?"

"Yes Dad," we both replied in unison.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the sound of the power tools in the distance.

Zeke stared at me in wonder at first as did Meg, her eyes bright with excitement. I knew I'd just taken a huge step though to be honest, I hadn't really meant to say it. That word had just slipped out likely due to years of being trained to respond that way to such commands, I suppose. Now that I _had_ said it though, I realised that I didn't mind. That's what he'd been to me for the past few months, after all. He'd all but begged for the job through his words and actions these past months so frankly, I knew it was time that I gave him the acknowledgment he deserved.

"O...Okay girls," he stuttered.

I marvelled. I'd never heard him do _that_ before and it was thrilling to see how much one little word meant to him. He pulled me to him again, crushing in me in a hug and letting go before I could tell him that it hurt. Then he turned and left the room.

Meg was still beaming at me as I watched him leave. I decided I wasn't going to indulge any fanfare over it so I acted nonchalant as I went over to the table, inhaling deeply.

"Come on, girl," I said to her, a new confidence trickling into my voice, "I'm starving!"

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

A few hours later, I was following Meg down the main staircase to the kitchen. I wanted to get some coffee because, unsurprisingly, the pounding, jackhammering and myriad of loud voices etc., were making a somewhat intolerable migraine, worse. It was slow going. My eyes were watering with the pain and I was being very cautious. I'd come across a few of the construction workers on the way. They were doing something or other with the large skylight in the hallway outside of Zeke's room and with the security panel at the end of the hall. A few were in Meg's room- she said changing some leaky tiles in her shower and a few more were working on the guest bathroom window. Some of the men nodded at us as we passed by but the majority ignored us.

We hit the landing and made our way to the kitchen, via the foyer. The front door was wide open and I could see at least ten men outside. A few of them were working on the main security panel and others were studying the windows surrounding the doorframe.

"Come on, Rook," Meg called, and some of those men looked up and stared at us. I felt immediately uneasy with their scrutiny. One of them in particular, a tall well-built man who'd been playing with the wiring in the wall stopped and took me in. He dragged his eyes slowly from my face, down my entire body and back again. He was obvious about it and evidently didn't care that I'd noticed because he looked me straight in the eyes when he was done and smirked.

My breath caught in my throat. Scott had looked at me that way. I couldn't move for a second, frozen as I relived it; Scott's hand around my throat, squeezing. I began lightly clawing at my own neck, trying to loosen his grip…..

"Hurry up, sis!" I felt someone's hand pull mine away, "Now _I'm_ having a hankering for coffee, so get a move on!"

She dragged me along, my vision finally coming back into focus as I stumbled into the kitchen behind her. Rosa had already set the Dalek to work and Meg gave her a quick hug as she grabbed a Danish from a basket on the counter.

"Miss Meg," Rosa admonished lightly, "It's almost lunch time."

"Awww Rosa, I'm hungry and you know how much I love these!" she grinned unrepentantly, "Besides, you shouldn't have left them out!"

I used the interlude of their banter to neutralize my facial expression. It was okay now. Meg had promised that she wouldn't leave my sight today so I had nothing to worry about. I wasn't going to make myself any more of a burden than I already had been today. Not after this morning's exchange. I was smiling by the time Meg offered me one of the pastries. I laughed as Rosa threatened never to make my favourite eggs again if I took it. I put my hands up in surrender and shook my head at Meg.

"You heard the lady," I said, a huge grin on my face.

"Way to throw me to the wolves, Rook." Meg feigned hurt. "Fine, more for me then."

She reached over to grab another one when the phone in the kitchen rang. She huffed and answered it instead. With her happily chatting away- it sounded like one of Zeke's acquaintances was politely asking after her before she called him to the phone, I made my way to the glass doors. I turned my body slightly towards Meg so as not to lose sight of her as I peered out at the construction workers. There were at least twenty more of them out there, mostly congregating around the windows and the side door. I turned back to see Meg looking at me as she discussed how she planned on spending her summer vacation. When she caught my eyes, she rolled hers, pointed to the phone and pretended to shoot herself in the head. I guffawed at the look on her face and turned back around to look out again when I found myself staring at two men who were standing there, directly in front of me on the other side of the glass.

I shrieked and dropped to the ground, immediately scrabbling away from them.

"Miss?" One of them opened the door and came towards me. "Are you okay? Let me help you up."

"No, don't touch me!" I cried. There was so much turmoil in my head. In my rational mind, I knew he was just trying to be kind but the other part of me recoiled at the very notion of feeling his hands on my body, in any capacity.

"Hey, _hey!"_

I looked up to see Zeke above me. I turned and dove into his arms as he scooped me up off the floor.

"It's fine, I've got her," he forestalled the approaching men.

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down and get a hold of your breathing."

I felt him taking me back up the staircase. I noticed all the eyes watching me, soft voices murmuring in the background. I turned my head into his shoulder. I didn't need to think about them anymore. I was safe.

Hours later, I woke up in my bed again. The repetitiveness of finding myself in this position was really becoming irritating. My hourly nervous breakdowns were doing a serious number on my self-confidence and again, I cursed Scott in my head.

"I wish he was dead," I whispered to myself, not really knowing if I meant it or not.

"You're awake."

"Zeke?" I turned over to find him on a chair beside my bed, his gaze intense as always, as if he could reassure himself that I would be okay with one look.

"Aly, honey, you're beginning to scare me."

I began to cry. My headache re-ignited, all the good effects of the espresso dissipating immediately.

"I'm sorry I'm being such an idiot," I hiccupped, sitting up and reaching for him

I winced when his tight hug aggravated the bruising but I didn't complain. At this rate, with the number of times I'd dissolved into tears today, the swelling in my face would _never_ get better.

"Aly," his tone was serious as he let go of me and sat back to see me better, "you _need_ to talk to me."

"I'm fine, Zeke. Those men just scared me. I…I..."

"Aly." His face was full of fatherly concern, "Please don't feel like you need to hide your feelings from me. I can only imagine what you must be going through and it's obvious you're not handling it on your own. Nuh, uh, uh…"

He held up his hand as I opened my mouth to deny his claim.

"You need to be truthful with me now and tell me what happened at that party. If you talk this out with me, I know it'll make you feel better."

He was so worried and his voice so earnest that it almost broke my heart. I just couldn't. I told him exactly that and he held my hand and squeezed it. He nodded in understanding and patted my hair with the other. It was like a beautiful dream come to life, having someone who could be so open-minded, compassionate and insightful also be my protector and carer. It was something I know that I'd been missing all my life. To have found it in a stranger who had _chosen_ to be all that for me, well, it was everything.

"Can I try tomorrow?" I asked, willing him to agree.

"Of course," he smiled, "All right now, are you hungry?"

I shook my head and smiled too, though more amused than embarrassed when he asked if I needed to use the bathroom.

"Good girl. In that case, I want you to get more sleep before dinner. I'm going to stay right here with you the whole time, okay?"

I nodded gratefully and settled back down. I was nodding off, feeling truly peaceful for the first time since this whole ordeal had begun, when something occurred to me.

"Zeke?" I asked, tentatively.

"Yes, honey?"

"You said that all the work on the house is for emergency repairs, right?" I sat up slightly in bed to see him better.

His look was unreadable as he nodded his head slightly, waiting expectantly for me to continue.

"Then how come they've only been working on things like the entrance and exit points of the house?"

Even as I said it, I knew it to be true. I'd been hyperaware of the location and movements of every laborer I'd come across this morning and they'd always been crowded around places like windows, doors and security panels. Clearly something was going on and no one wanted to tell me.

I stared as Zeke's face transformed from surprised to blank to resigned, all over a number of seconds. His mouth upturned slightly on one side and he patted my hand.

"You're such a smart girl," he praised, pausing for a moment and looking like what he was about to say would hurt him.

"Whatever it is I can handle it," I said firmly, then I said, "If you talk this out with me, I know it'll make you feel better."

He barked a little laugh. "Too smart, it seems," he playfully admonished, before his face turned regretful, "I didn't want to worry you and I want you to know that you shouldn't be, all right?"

I nodded, waiting.

"…but what the men are doing is more of a revision of security measures and protocols with upgrading if required."

"Why now? Did something happen?"

"I asked Meg not to tell you, given how upset you were at the idea of my tracking Scott down and making him pay."

Zeke's eyes took on a steely glint that made me flinch slightly, even though I knew it was the mention of Scott that had made him angry.

"She also told me that your panic attack yesterday was because you heard a phone conversation that wasn't really meant for your ears…"

"Meg didn't mean it," I piped up, definitely _not_ wanting her to get into trouble. We'd _just_ started to repair the damage between us, "Meg didn't know what Nicole was going to say! She didn't know what lie those kids have been spreading about me…"

"I know, Aly, calm down," he cut me off, "I didn't say that she did. Nevertheless, you're aware now that I _did_ get involved despite your request. You're my daughter, I had no choice. What you don't know is that Scott's grandfather is a very powerful man in this state. He's a _connected_ man. Do you know what that means?"

"Isn't that like a Mob thing?" I asked, horrified.

"Precisely," he replied simply, "Now I don't want you to worry. There haven't been any overt threats made but I'm not taking any chances with you girls."

"Worry?" I cried, the now familiar wave of panic bubbling up inside me, "Oh my God, this just keeps getting worse and worse and it's all my fault! I can't believe this is happening! Now you and Meg are in danger because of me…"

"Stop it, Aly," Zeke said quietly, "Stop it!"

He'd grabbed both my hands when I started to pound them on my thighs.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he scolded, "We are fine and we will remain that way. These are precautionary measures only. I'm sorry all this had to be done while you're still so…fragile, but it was necessary. You are mine now and it's my job to protect you from even the hint of a threat. My God, Alyson, I'm so sorry that I wasn't there when it happened to you but I will damn well do everything in my power now to make sure you're safe. Do you understand?"

"Yes Daddy," I whispered.

He gathered me in his arms again, "Good girl. Now, lie down and go to sleep. I'll wake you up for dinner and after, you can go back to bed if you want."

Closing my eyes, I snuggled under the covers again and smiled.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. It was still noisy but two rounds of ibuprofen and coffee later, my headache had all but died down to a barely noticeable twinge. Zeke, true to his word, had stayed with me for the rest of the night, making temporary office space for himself at my vanity table. I'd awoken a few times to use the bathroom in the evening and he'd been there, shuffling through papers or on his phone. When it was dinner time, he woke me up and he, Meg and I indulged in waffles and ice cream, topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream, chopped nuts, cherries and salted caramel sauce right there on my bed.

They'd tried to keep the conversation as light as possible and to their credit, though I remained mostly subdued, it had helped me forget for a little while. When I went back to sleep for the final time that day, I managed to do so with my mind being clearer than it had been for days.

Meg stayed with me again overnight, giving Zeke a break from babysitting duties. She'd even let me sleep in a little so that it was already noon by the time I got up the following day. Feeling a little braver, I told her to head down to lunch ahead of me and that I would follow as soon as I got cleaned up. She'd flatly refused at first, but I managed to convince her that all the sleep from the day before had made a world of difference and that I was calmer now. She'd had Charles bring me up some more ibuprofen, orange juice and a heat pack before she'd finally agreed. She'd been very proud of that last, telling me in vivid detail about how she'd researched the best treatment for bruising on the internet and had found that by day three, it was time to use heat and not cold therapy. She'd been so pleased with herself that it had made me laugh. I think it was this unexpected cheerfulness that had finally convinced her.

I'd faithfully followed her instructions, even using the heat pack as I sat at the vanity table, blow-drying my hair. When I was done, I'd taken a few fortifying breaths and wrenched open the door. I knew that Zeke didn't blame me, but I still felt guilty that he'd not only had to go to the huge expense of upgrading security at the house, but that he and Meg could possibly be in danger now. The least I could do was to try what Zeke had asked the day before- spend some time outside of my room. So with all the confidence I didn't feel, I headed for the staircase.

As soon as I hit the hallway, I encountered three workers milling around the guest bathroom again. I squashed down the lump in my throat and skirted past them, reciting the words to '99 bottles of beer' to keep my mind occupied. I made it to the kitchen triumphantly only to find myself alone. I looked around bewildered. Where was Rosa? Obviously no one had been in this kitchen for hours. I wandered over to the glass doors of the living room. At least none of the men were nearby today. I tentatively opened the door and then the answer hit me. I could smell the wonderfully smoky aroma of charcoal and steak wafting towards me from the hidden outdoor barbeque area around the side of the house. Zeke was an avid barbequer and we'd had more than a few dinners out on the back deck at sunset. He'd said that the fire, smokiness and heat from the coals reminded him of his own childhood, with his father tending to the flames. He'd said this wistfully, lost in thought for a bit and I'd made a mental note to someday soon, learn more about his past and my new family's history.

Zeke had told Meg and me not to venture outside while the men were here to work on the house, but clearly they were outside so I'd be expected to go out there too, right? I took one tentative step and then another, realising how much I'd missed the feeling of fresh air and sunshine on my face. As usual, Zeke had been right. Getting out of my self-imposed prison was _exactly_ what I need to do.

I walked down the steps to the little path that lead around the house, the smell of the meat acting like a siren call to my hunger. While it had been fun to have dessert for dinner, it hadn't exactly been filling and now I was sure that I could eat the whole cow by myself if someone offered it to me. It actually took a while to get to the barbeque area. It was set away from the house because, as Meg put it, 'it would spoil the aesthetic.' I trudged over the rugged path down to the pit. I could see Rosa talking to someone who I assumed was Zeke as I made my way closer. I was about to call out to them when out of nowhere, a huge man cut across my path. He was at least 6 feet tall and the size of a football player. With his dark wavy hair and crystal blue eyes, he could have been Scott's twin brother.

All at once, the memory of that night came flooding back just like it had several times over the past few days but now with an intensity that was magnified a 100-fold. I screamed, the sound loud and frenzied. I fell backwards onto the sharp stones below knowing, but so numb that I didn't really _feel_ that I'd broken open some skin. I held my hands out in front of me, trying to stave off the inevitable attack, begging Scott to leave me alone.

"Aly!" I thought I heard a voice call my name but I was too busy scooting backwards along the ground.

The guy in front of me was peering stupidly down at me, looking behind him askance, not understanding what was going on.

"No, no, no, no!" I kept chanting, burying my face in my hands and crying for him not to hurt me again.

"Get away from her, idiot!" I heard a voice hiss and then Meg was in front of me.

"Alyson, it's okay, it's Meg,"

"Let me, honey." It was Zeke. He blocked out the sun as he stooped down in front of me. "Aly, baby, no one is going to hurt you. It's just one of the workers…"

"He looks like Scott, Dad."

"I know, Meg. Aly? I'm going to help you up now, okay? Do you hear me, little one? It's Zeke….it's Dad."

"Zeke?" I finally got the nerve to look up and I saw him above me, worry marring his features.

"Yes, Aly," he answered, "I'm going to pick you up now, all right? I don't want you to injure yourself anymore. You've cut your elbows and your hands."

As he said it, I felt the burn of the gravel rash. I reached for him, and in a moment of clarity sarcastically joked to myself that I was very glad that he was so fit, given the number of times he'd had to carry me over the past three days. We swept into the house and Meg followed us up to my room where Zeke took me straight to the bathroom. He put me right on the counter and ordered Meg to get a first aid kit. She ran off and he put one of my hands under the tap, using the tepid water to try to wash the dirt out.

I cried out as the stinging increased and tried to pull away. He held fast, forcing me to stay put but apologising as he did so. Meg came back just as he'd finished with my other palm and he set her the task of wrapping my hands in gauze after spreading some antibiotic goo on them first. When they'd finished with my elbows, despite my protests that I could walk, he picked me up and tucked me into bed. He sat down on the other side and I drew up beside him, welcoming his warmth.

We were all quiet for a few minutes and then Zeke asked Meg to step outside.

"Dad?"

"It's okay, Meg, Aly and I have a date today and I don't want her to think that I've stood her up."

I looked up at him questioningly and then at Meg, who stared at us for a moment and then nodded, leaving the room.

I looked up again and found him smiling down at me.

"What date?" I asked, still puzzled.

"Before I get to that, I need you to tell me what just happened."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I really didn't want to do that.

He squeezed my shoulder lightly. "Yes, honey. I don't want to seem mean but I need to know what's going on with you. I think you know that you can't go on like this. The trauma of what happened to you is clearly too much for you to handle alone and you don't have to. You're a mature young woman, Aly, I know this, but you're still only 14. This burden is too much for someone so young, baby. That's what I'm here for. It's the job you entrusted to me the moment you called me 'Dad' so that's what I'm going to be. You need to open up to me even if it's hard and you don't want to. Do you understand, sweetheart?"

I nodded into his chest and he sighed in relief.

"Our date, Aly, is about you telling me what happened between you and Scott."

I shook my head again.

"Yes, Aly. I'm not taking no for an answer. It's going to be painful but you're going to do it. Trust me, this is the first step to getting better, I know it. You'll be able to take back control of your life by talking about this with someone who loves and supports you unconditionally. And I fit that description, don't I?"

"Yeah."

"Good girl." He kissed my forehead. "You don't need to rush, love. You tell me in your own time."

He was quiet then as he waited for me to gather the courage to do something I absolutely didn't want to do. But maybe he was right. Goodness knew that nothing I'd been doing or saying to myself over the past three days had been working. Maybe if I shared it with him, maybe if someone else knew, the weight of this pain could be lessened and I wouldn't be buried under it anymore.

So it begin a little shaky and incoherent initially but soon thereafter, when I realised that Zeke offered no judgement or blame, everything came flooding out. From Scott's stalking me on the dance floor to his dragging me into the room, I choked and cried and stuttered through the whole story. Reliving the details of what he'd done to me made me feel so raw and vulnerable, but I pushed through. It wasn't long before I'd caught him up on the events of the past few days and then, what had just happened outside.

Zeke was quiet through most of it, offering small encouragements when I paused long enough for him to think I was going to shut down completely. When I was all finished, he kissed my forehead again and thanked me for trusting him. He told me how proud he was of the bravery I'd shown and that he didn't want me feeling any misplaced shame because I was the innocent party in all this. Then, he firmly admonished me for the guilt I'd been feeling about him stepping up for me with Scott's family and for the safety upgrades. He told me that _he_ made his own decisions as to what was best for his family and that I was _his_ responsibility, not the other way around.

We kept talking for at least another hour, Zeke debunking every argument that I'd made in which I had assigned myself all the blame. He was absolutely relentless and by the time I asked for some water for my parched throat, his concerted effort to afford me complete absolution, seemed to finally be getting through to me.

He'd been right. Talking it all out _had_ made me start to feel genuinely hopeful for the first time in days. My stomach began growling soon after, signalling that it was time for us to take a much needed break. The three of us ate a late lunch of steak and baked potatoes in my room and when I finally went to bed that night, I was virtually headache free and felt so much more relieved. Zeke warned that my 'PTSD' as he'd called it, wouldn't necessarily completely disappear right away but that I'd taken huge, very important steps on the road to recovery. He hadn't doubted my strength of will for a second, but he'd thought that I'd just needed a little nudge in the right direction to get there.

By the fourth day Post-Creeper, as Meg had taken to calling it, work on the house was basically complete and only a handful of workers remained to finish up a few of the smaller odd jobs. Zeke and Meg kept me company as we walked around the grounds, sat by the pool and played tennis. I felt so invigorated and alive again, which delighted Meg to no end. She'd decided that since I was doing better, we should go hang out with Nicole, Jerry and Glenn the next day, just to get a bite to eat. I was reluctant at first, but Zeke thought it would be good for me to have a change of scenery, especially with people I was already comfortable with. Inwardly, I laughed at the thought of ever thinking of Nicole that way. Still, I could tell that Meg was really eager to be a more active part of my recovery and I felt a little bad about how she'd been left out when Zeke and I had had our heart-to-heart. I knew that he would leave it up to me about how much I shared with her and, mindful of our recent tiff and how much I wanted to make up with her, I agreed to go out. Zeke was always right about these things anyway and it made sense to me that I needed to start getting back into a normal routine if I was going to beat this thing. I really wanted to be _me_ again. When I fell asleep that night, my heart was filled with hopeful anticipation of what was to come.


	21. Chapter 21

"I can't believe how long this took!" Dean said, sounding pissed off, "Ash screwed up, man!"

"He had his own problems and I didn't give him much to go on, Dean," Sam replied, glancing over at his brother, "Look, it's only been a few days. We've been checking the newspapers for any signs of Andy and his wife, and there hasn't been anything yet. So now we've just gotta get there as soon as we can and hope that we're in time."

"I don't like it, Sam and I don't care what has or hasn't been in the papers," Dean insisted, "You haven't been able to contact Aly again- no more premonitions or dreams or anything. How you can sit there and be all rainbows and bunnies is beyond me."

"We don't have a choice. I haven't been able to connect with her but I know she's there- always. I can _feel_ her. We have our lead now, so we can't give up."

"No one's giving up, but the rest of us don't have superpowers, Sammy. She's just a kid and she's been out there on her own for way too long. Even Dad's getting worried. I can tell, even if he's trying to hide it. You notice how he's getting pretty bad at doing that, right?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, eyeing Dean, "He's been really quiet and that's when you know it's bad."

"Yeah."

The brothers, John and Bobby were currently on their way to a small county in Iowa, thanks to Ash working his magic on the DMV database. They'd managed to track down an Andy Goddard, a 72 year old soyabean farmer who lived with his wife of 50 years, Jenny, a 70 year old former elementary school teacher who spent most days tending her small vegetable and fruit garden and babysitting her grandchildren. When Sam had first woken up from his shared premonition, he'd immediately called Ash but the man had been M.I.A.. None of their usual contacts had been able to find him and without the breadth of his access, Team Winchester had had to "sit with their thumbs up their butts" as Dean had so artfully put it, waiting for him to re-emerge some 3 days later. Apparently, Ash had had a small problem with the A.T.F. and had hightailed it to Mexico while it was being straightened out. Dean had yelled a few choice words at him once he'd returned their dozens of voicemails before John had put a stop to it and sent him to cool off. Under very vocal protest, he'd left to bring back dinner, vowing to skin Ash alive if he ever got a hold of him. 30 minutes later they had gotten back on the road, bellies full and in Sam's case, with a side of rainbows and bunnies. Hopefully, they were going to stop a murder and in the process, save their best chance at finding Alyson.

It was going to be at least another hour of driving and they still had to come up with a strategy to help them convince Andy and his wife that their lives were in danger. Dean and John had been all for winging it, an option that had left Bobby rather unimpressed. Sam had just seemed distracted. All had agreed that they weren't going to spend much time worrying about it now so they'd hauled ass to Iowa. On the way, they'd received another piece of good news. Pastor Jim had managed to get a line on the Colt. After they rescued this couple and hopefully gained some information about Aly, the team was going to split up to divide and conquer; John and Bobby, were going after the gun, Sam and Dean, after their sister.

It was nearly 5 p.m. when they finally arrived in Guthrie. It wasn't actually very hard to find the Goddard homestead. With a population of only around 11,000, it took them less than 20 minutes to track down the address Ash had found for them. The long winding drive up to the farmhouse couldn't hide the devastation. Dean audibly gasped and his eyes widened as he took it all in; the pile of rubble that was once a turn of the century home where generations had been born, raised and nurtured, was still smoking in a few places; signs condemning the ruins already erected by State building inspectors.

"No," Sam muttered to himself in disbelief, _"No!"_

He was out of Baby before she'd come to a complete stop.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, as Sam jumped out of the moving car, "Sam, wait!"

John and Bobby called after him too; he ignored them all. He ran up the steps to the front door, eerily the only part of the house left completely intact. He paused as he reached it dropping to his knees before he screamed, the sound one of utter despair. It was only a few moments before he felt himself being hauled up and turned into the embrace of his father.

"Dad!" he cried, his arms immediately circling John, "I…I..."

John had known how fragile his son had been over the past few weeks. Indeed, Sam had clamped tightly onto the tendril of hope that was Andy Goddard. Really, they _all_ had, but if Sam had thought himself guilty about Aly leaving before, in these last few days, he'd downright convicted himself and thrown away the key over his inability to communicate with her. The eldest Winchester knew that, at least partly, those phone calls with Missouri were related to trying to re-establish that connection, each failure taking its toll on his son who had probably slept all of about 10 hours in the past week. Seeing Sam break down like this was more than John could handle. He tightened his arms and forcefully moved his son away from the house, leading him back to his truck.

Dean walked over to them and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. Needless to say, he understood Sam's feeling of devastation but he also knew that he had to hold it together, for all their sakes. When Sam had calmed down, John let him go and they turned back to the house. Bobby had been skirting the perimeter looking for evidence of the supernatural. He called to them and the trio soon joined him at the northeast corner of the building, where the kitchen had once stood. It was soon obvious why he'd done so. Even though it had clearly been a day or two since the fire, the faint odor of sulphur was unmistakable to the hunters.

"It might not be what we think," Sam started, the uncertainty clear in his voice, "The men in my vision didn't have black eyes. There were no indications that they were demons."

"You mean other than the brutal murder of Ma and Pa Kettle?" Dean contradicted callously, earning himself a slap around the head by Bobby.

"Show some respect, boy!" he admonished, then muttered, "Idjit!"

"Okay, we have to assume that we're dealing with demons," John interjected, squeezing Sam's shoulder, "We gotta get to work. We need to talk to local law enforcement, get some details about their investigation and then we have to see if we can find out anything from the gas company- see if those men you saw were just meatsuits or if those assholes really live in this town. We're also going to have to touch base with Andy's family. For whatever reason, these things have made them targets and somehow, Aly is connected to them."

"Sam and I are going to take the local P.D." Dean volunteered.

"I'll track down the family and the neighbors- see what I can find out." Bobby offered.

"Let's go!" Sam held fierce determination in his eyes, "We're wasting time!"

"All right, let's load 'em up," Dean said, hoping to appease Sam and get him back on an even keel.

The group broke apart, taking a few minutes to change into the appropriate clothing before heading out on their respective assignments.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"I can't imagine the Goddards having any enemies, Agent Bachman," the Guthrie County Sheriff's Deputy, Officer Jameson replied, looking back and forth between Sam and Dean, "They were law-abiding, upstanding members of this community for more than 50 years. They worked hard, helped their neighbours when they could and reared some fantastic children. Two of them are doctors in Des Moines, one's a fancy lawyer over in D.C. and the rest still live in Guthrie, helping out their old man with the farm. The fire department's been all over this for the past three days and THEY think this was a simple gas leak. That's all. Now, how about you tell me why you're looking at this like it's a homicide."

"Officer Jameson, is it?" Sam said, an undercurrent of hostility in his tone, "The F.B.I. doesn't offer details on active cases to local law enforcement and anything we tell you is going to be on a need to know basis. Guess what? You don't..."

"What my partner is trying to say, is that we're working on a very delicate case right now and the Goddards' name came up. We're just doing our due diligence here and we appreciate all your help in the matter. Thank you so much, Officer, we'll be in touch."

Dean put his hand haltingly on Sam's arm and tugged him away from the Deputy with an awkwardly apologetic smile on his face. Sam allowed himself to be led away, taking a few deep breaths to try to compose himself. Then they were heading off to rendezvous with Bobby and John at the local Super 8.

Dean gave Sam a few minutes of silence before he began.

"What was that back there?" he asked, glancing at his brother, "This is a small town, Sam and we're outsiders. We have _got_ to keep the locals on our side if we're going to get any answers."

Sam remained silent, staring stubbornly ahead at the sunset before them.

"Sam? Come on, talk to me. You think I don't know what you're feeling right now? We all are, man! You don't have some monopoly on love for Aly and you _definitely_ don't have some inalienable right to the blame for this situation, either. There's plenty to go around here, so stop acting like a dick and get your head in the game!"

Sam huffed, but made no other indication that he was listening.

"Sammy, did you hear me?" Dean used a tone that John Winchester had patented years ago, one that all his children responded to without question.

It took Sam a few seconds, but without looking at his brother, he said, "Yes Dean, I hear you."

Dean decided to leave it at that and claim the victory however small. They were about to compare notes and hopefully, one of the other two had had better luck.

Bobby and John were waiting for them with pizza and beer. They grunted hellos as they entered the room, both having turns taking off their suits in the bathroom. Soon though, all four were sitting around the small round table set near the large window that overlooked the carpark.

"So what did you find out?" John asked, finishing the last of his beer.

"Basically, the Goddards were the salt of the earth. No enemies, no financial issues, no parking tickets, no reason whatsoever as to why anyone would want them dead. The police are treating this as an accident and they're not really investigating any other possibilities." Dean grabbed another slice and tore into it, barely finishing his first before doing so.

John stared at his son for a moment. "Hungry, Dean?" he asked in amusement.

Dean just hummed happily in response and John shook his head.

"Well, I came up empty at the natural gas company too. Got to talk to one of the managers before they closed for the day. Apparently, one of their vans was stolen two weeks ago. They reported it but the cops just assumed that some high school kids snatched it to go joyriding. Apparently that's what passes for fun around here. Anyway, the police found it abandoned and burnt out 70 miles outside of Guthrie the day of the fire. Of course, there are no other leads- no prints, no surveillance, nothing. The guys you saw, Sam, didn't fit the description of any known employees at the company either. All in all, it was a waste of time."

John looked over at Bobby who was calmly waiting for his turn.

"I _may_ have something," he said, wiping his hands on a napkin, "I managed to talk to one of the Goddard kids. The funeral's tomorrow and it looks like you're right, Dean. They were pretty highly regarded around here. Seems like everyone's going to be there including the Mayor. The most important people in this case- family, neighbors, local government-will all be in the one place. We'll be able to ask all our questions then."

Sam and Dean stared at Bobby in varying degrees of shock.

"Hey Bobby," Dean said, incredulously, "Maybe next time lead with that."

"Uh huh," Sam nodded in agreement.

Bobby smirked briefly and then said, "I'll take that under advisement."

They spent another few hours strategizing about the upcoming gathering. Sam and Dean were going to case the funeral while John and Bobby were going to hang back to cover them if anything unexpected came up.

"Don't worry, Sam," Dean felt obliged to say, as they entered their own room at the motel, "This is going to work out. I know we're going to get some usable intel at the funeral."

"I hope so, Dean," Sam replied, pausing to look at his brother for a moment, "I'm not sure how much longer I can take this."

"I know, Sam," he said quietly, "I know."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

It was a lovely Saturday afternoon in Iowa. The skies were clear and there was a gentle breeze that made the 72F degree day seem somewhat cooler. Dean and Sam had occupied a pew at the back of the church where they'd be able to study the entire congregation. At least three generations of the Goddard family were in the front rows. All were clearly devastated that such a random and unexpected accident had taken the lives of two people who were clearly much loved in the community. Indeed, there had been a virtual parade of town's people who had made their way up to the pulpit to share stories and anecdotes about Andy and Jenny. The grief was palpable and agonizing to experience, even to an outsider. Sam had felt his eyes moisten slightly when the oldest of the grandchildren, 13-year-old Emily, came up to talk about how her grandfather had taught her to swim when she was a little girl and about how he had made her feel better when the kids in 4th grade had teased her about having to wear braces.

"I was pretty little back then and I'm not sure I really got what he meant at first but I've always remembered it. He said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent…"

"Eleanor Roosevelt said that," Sam murmured under his breath to Dean.

Dean gave Sam a look of pure disgust as he whispered back, "Nerd!"

"…You were right, Grandpa. I love you and I…I'll miss you!"

The last speaker was Carrie Goddard, the couple's eldest child. She looked drawn and gaunt, needing help to walk up the steps to the podium. Sam and Dean glanced at each other, sympathy written all over their faces.

"My parents were married for 43 years and they spent all of those years on our farm. They raised six children there, made a life there. They were leaders in this community; my mom taught many of you, your kids and your kids' kids. My Dad…my Dad was a hard worker. He worked 15 hour days for most of his life; he was head of the local soyabean union and he represented many of you and your farms up in Des Moines," Carrie paused for a moment to dab at her eyes and clear her throat, "My Dad also volunteered at the homeless shelter in Cedar Rapids for 20 years and he helped create jobs for a lot of the people there who needed a break. I know some of you weren't always happy with that arrangement but none of those people ever caused us any trouble and I can name dozens of men and women whose families got second chances because of Dad's belief that hard work nurtured the human soul and helped it to overcome any obstacle…."

Dean turned quickly to Sam, mild alarm in his tone. "Do you think that Andy Goddard was a Crossroads Demon?"

"I don't know?" Sam replied thoughtfully, "But he'd be the first of Hell's spawn that we've come across that decided to go rogue and pose as a Soyabean farmer in Iowa. Maybe that pissed off some of his brethren."

"Hmmmm….."

"…..all those runaways he picked up along the way. My Mom didn't always approve but I know that it made my Dad happiest helping kids who felt like they had nowhere else to turn when their families abandoned them…."

Sam grabbed Dean's arm tightly. He was sure that Dean was thinking the same thing as he was.

Dean gently shrugged his brother off. Yeah, he'd heard it. They were definitely going to the wake now.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Sam was holding a cup of cider as he slowly made his way around the room. Dean had managed to charm their way into Carrie's house, having taken her aside for a few minutes when they'd arrived. Sam hadn't been privy to what was said. How she hadn't freaked out when he'd told her that they were F.B.I. agents, well, Sam would have to drill him for information later.

Dean was, as _only_ Dean would be, surrounded by at least six older ladies who were vying for his attention as he sampled each of their casseroles in turn. Sam almost choked on his drink as he suppressed a laugh. Dean looked like he had stepped into Heaven itself; his eyes were closed and he was currently savoring the chicken pot pie that Jenny Goddard's cousin was hand feeding him. Sam knew that his brother was lost to him now, so he set about tracking down their hostess. He found her in the kitchen where she was loading glasses into the dishwasher.

"Miss Goddard?" Sam knew he had startled her when she jumped a mile, her hand immediately going to her chest.

"Oh my!" she half-laughed, half-gasped.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he apologised sheepishly, "I didn't mean to scare you. My name is Agent Turner. You met my partner earlier, Agent Bachman?"

"Ah yes," she smiled weakly, her eyes red and swollen from crying, "I guess your work takes you away from home a lot. Your partner seems really…..appreciative of a home cooked meal."

"Yeah," he replied, "you have no idea."

"How can I help you Agent?"

"I'm really sorry for your loss," he began, "I could tell that your parents were very well respected and loved. Your Dad was a good example for us all- a really generous man. What he did for those runaways…."

"Yeah, I know what I said," she interrupted, returning to her task, "but I tried to talk him out of picking up random kids he found wandering the streets. His heart was in the right place, of course, but he's been robbed and beaten up by those _poor_ kids more times than I can count over the years. Practically every member of the family told him he was crazy. I mean, he drove the same route every time he came back from Des Moines. Those little hellions could've scoped him out on any one of those runs."

"Have you noticed anyone strange hanging out around the farm of late? Anyone who could have followed him home?"

"Well, it's hard to say. You heard what I said about the people from the shelter? Yeah, well, there were always unfamiliar faces around the farm. In the beginning, when I was a lot younger, a fight between two of the hands landed them both in the hospital and caused some serious damage to very expensive equipment. After that, Dad was much more careful about who came to work for us. Mostly took on whole families; parents with their kids who were only interested in taking advantage of the opportunity to get back on their feet. We never really had a problem after that."

"Were any of these workers around the day of the fire?"

"You don't know much about soyabean farming, do you agent?" Carrie chuckled, taking a sip of lemonade from a glass she'd kept on the kitchen island, "Planting season is almost over. In the last decade or so, my Dad's modernized the farm. He needs less and less manpower as he's increased the mechanization, like most of the other farmers in the U.S. This was probably the second year in a row that he's only hired families for the first three quarters of the season. With only a month or so left, he'd have been able to handle most of the growing period by himself. He'd have ended up hiring more help later though because it peaks in October. But those numbers would have been smaller even being harvest time. In other words, Agent Turner, my Dad was overseeing everything on the farm himself, right now. There wasn't anyone else living there but my parents."

Sam nodded, his mind turning over with a number of theories simultaneously. Then he said, "Had your parents mentioned anything about the smell of sulphur recently or any strange people coming to make deals with them?"

"Don't you mean the smell of natural gas?"

"Sure," Sam acquiesced, knowing how suspicious these questions were.

"No to both," she took another swig of her drink and Sam suspected that the lemonade was likely a little _harder_ than it appeared. "And what kind of deals are you referring to?"

"Deals that seemed too good to be true. Maybe with a ten year payment plan?"

"No, not that he or Mom ever mentioned," she looked confused for a minute and Sam was sure she was getting a little tipsy, "What is it you're looking for, Agent?"

"We're trying to track down some con men who've been swindling hardworking families out of tens of thousands of dollars." Sam delivered the backstory that Bobby had suggested for just this question. It looked like Carrie was buying it and internally, Sam was relieved. He couldn't help but feel that interrogating this grieving woman for purely selfish reasons was low but he had no choice.

In between bouts of small talk, Sam finagled Andy's usual travel route out of her. If they could use some cross referencing and creative elimination strategies, maybe they could narrow down the possible places along the way that Andy might have met up with Aly. It was a stretch but at this point, with Andy dead, they needed to believe in miracles.

A few minutes later, Sam had made his apologies and excused himself when Carrie's niece came in looking for her. He looked around for Dean and wasn't surprised to find that he was gone, likely taking a little break from his fan club. Though he seemed like a bottomless pit, even Dean had limits….sometimes….mostly. Sam put his now empty glass down on a tray and walked outside, figuring he could use the fresh air given how crowded the house had become over the past few minutes. He made his way along the wrap around porch, breathing in the sweet smelling air. He heard the mewing sound before he felt the beautiful Russian Blue swirling around his feet. He smiled, stopping to pick up the cat before he continued on his way while petting the animal. It was only a few minutes before he heard the scuffle. He quickly put the cat on the ground and made his way off the porch around to the small apple orchard that was located about 100 feet away. Sam felt for the gun tucked into the back of his pants and surreptitiously made his way through the trees. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. Dean was beating the holy hell out of one of the old ladies that had been plying him with stew.

"Dean?" Sam half whispered, half shouted as he bolted towards them, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hey Sammy," he heaved with the effort of throwing the woman to the ground, "Come join the party!"

He kicked her in the stomach and she turned her bloodied, frightened face to Sam as he stepped between her and Dean.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Help me, oh God, help me!" she cried up at Sam, who was holding Dean back.

"That isn't Grandma, Sam, it's the Big Bad Wolf!" Dean shoved his brother out of the way and kicked her again.

"It's a werewolf?" Sam asked, looking down at her.

"No," Dean huffed in annoyance, "It's a demon, Sammy. One minute this _thing_ was feeding me a fantastic beef and red wine casserole and the next, I found it searching through Carrie Goddard's bedroom. I was looking for the bathroom upstairs and I accidentally caught it going through her dresser. I startled you, didn't I?" Dean kicked her again and Sam winced but didn't intervene this time. "It turned to me Sammy, and its eyes were black!"

Sam whipped his head towards the high pitched cackling coming from the demon at his feet.

"Guess the jig is up. Had you going there didn't I, Big & Tall?" it taunted Sam, sitting up and wiping the blood from the corner of its mouth. It turned to Dean, "What's the matter, Winchester? I thought you loved my potluck dish? Best you'd ever tasted, you said."

"Shut up, bitch!" he threw some Holy Water on the demon and it screamed, frantically clutching at its burning face.

"Why are demons interested in this family?" Sam fished out his own flask and shook it in front of her.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" she heaved in anger.

"You really don't want to test me right now," Dean threatened menacingly, "If you don't want me to kill you, you're going to answer the question."

It looked hatefully at them, stubbornly remaining silent, eyes as black as coal. After a few moments, Sam splashed a healthy dose of Holy Water in the meatsuit's face and it cried out again.

"All right, All right! Stop!" the demon held its hand up in supplication, as it tried to catch its breath.

"Look," it hissed scornfully, "the old man pissed off the wrong people and the woman was collateral damage. My associate and I did her for free!" It laughed callously and Sam held Dean back.

"Who are you working for? Do you know if it has anything to do with us?" Sam's voice was full of malice. Earlier, John had insisted that none of them mention Aly to any demons they happened upon from now on, just in case her being gone was still, hopefully, unknown.

The demon was smug as it sighed thoughtfully. It opened its mouth to speak and then it laughed. "Sorry Beavis and Butthead! Places to go, people to see and certainly no time for chitchatting just now!"

Before they could react, the woman's mouth opened wide and thick black smoke poured out and over the tops of the trees.

"Damn it!" Dean said, rushing forward, but it was already too late.

Sam checked the woman's pulse. She was dead.

"We have to get out of here, Dean," Sam said, "I have no idea how to explain this."

"We're F.B.I., remember?" his brother retorted, angry with himself for losing their lead. "We can just say we found her this way."

"Do you see your knuckles?" Sam said, grabbing hold of one of Dean's hands and placing it in front of his face.

"Then you do it," Dean shoved Sam away with his other hand, "Stop panicking! We can't just disappear. Go in that house and find that Deputy Jamesburger or whatever…"

"Jameson."

"Yeah, that one!" Dean rolled his eyes in irritation, "He was skulking around one of the Goddard grandkids, last I saw him. Think her name was Cheryl. He's obviously into her. Whatever! Just do your job, Agent!"

"Yeah, okay," Sam nodded, feeling more settled. "You stay out of sight. Call Dad to pick you up and I'll meet you back at the motel."

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It was several hours before Sam made it back. The others had packed up while awaiting his return. He'd managed to cleanly sever their involvement in this new investigation, a feat which impressed Dean immensely. Dean had already shared his information with John and Bobby, the encounter with the demon the source of great apprehension for all three, though none of them chose to show it. No one wanted to voice the deep sense of foreboding that was burning holes in their guts right now.

Sam briefly told them about what he'd gotten out of Carrie and they all agreed that they'd head out to Des Moines, one of Andy' most frequent stops and regroup there. Sam had just dropped their room keys into the Express Checkout slot in the side of the main office. He was making his way back to the Impala, when he heard his father's deep voice say, "What the hell?"

He changed direction and walked over to his father's truck, Dean following behind him.

"What is it, Dad?" Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

His father was staring at the cellphone in his hand, as if he'd never seen one before.

"Dad?" Dean prompted, when John remained silent.

He grabbed the phone, surprised when his father let him. There were five incoming texts, two had recently been opened and all were from an unknown caller.

"What the fuck?" Dean exclaimed when he had scrolled through all of them.

Sam grabbed the phone and gasped at the screen.

 _ **U don't know me but I know U…..and ur lil gurl, LOL!**_

There was a picture of Aly at a party, inappropriately dressed for her age with much older kids milling around in the background. She had a beer bottle in her hand and her eyes were red and half closed. She looked pretty rough, obviously drunk off her ass. A second picture showed her sprawled across a bed in the same revealing clothes, heavy eye makeup smeared across her face and her limbs bent in unnatural positions, suggesting she'd passed out where she lay. What really sent a shiver of fear down Sam's spine was the familiar look of the flowery room around her. He'd seen that room before.

He scrolled to the next text.

 _ **Aly's free to try new things with us. She's a natural!**_

His sister was out in the woods in this picture, a female hand around her shoulders holding a joint up towards the camera while the smoke swirled around her head. Behind them on the picnic table, he could see empty wine cooler bottles and beer cans and what looked like a bag of pot carelessly spilling its contents all over.

He clenched his jaw and glared at the screen, not acknowledging when Dean and Bobby came to stand more closely beside him, each looking over one of his shoulders so they could see the screen.

The last text was entitled, _**"Click here for more Aly fun!"**_ __and in the body was the link to a video. It took a bit of time to load but as it played, Sam stopped breathing. It was a security video from a fancy looking department store. There were three girls at a makeup counter; one of them clearly Aly. In fact, someone had helpfully edited the video so that hers was the only visible face. The other girls' heads were replaced with smiley faces and Dean's muttered, "Son of a bitch!" reflected the obvious; that some asshole had their sister and was playing with them.

The rest of the clip didn't even matter that much. The girl with short hair closest to Aly had lifted an item from behind the counter and dropped it into his sister's shopping bag while the third girl kept the saleswoman distracted. When the security guard entered the frame, Sam had seen enough and closed the web-browser.

He sucked in a deep breath, grit his teeth and looked at Dean whose face displayed the shock he was feeling.

"I don't…..I…" Bobby stuttered, looking between the three other men.

"Dad, I…."

Sam was cut off by the notification of a new message. With trembling fingers, he opened it. There was a gif file of Aly's sleeping face. It was swollen on one side with bruising all along her neck and tears staining her cheeks. For the first few seconds, it showed her sleeping fitfully; she was moaning the same word over and over again- 'Sam'- but then the animation progressed and awkward, hideous cartoon eyes replaced Aly's. They were huge and blinking owlishly, looking all around as if taking in the surroundings. They reminded Sam of something out of a Disney princess movie at first but then they stopped and stared straight out of the screen.

John, who'd silently moved closer once the new text came in, struggled for air at the next frame- those blinking, innocent, animated eyes suddenly turned black and then a few seconds later, yellow. Words that would haunt him for the rest of his life, flashed across the screen in red:

 _ **Sorry Johnny. She's ours now!**_

It wasn't a question anymore. The Yellow-Eyed Demon had his daughter.


	22. Chapter 22

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry I haven't updated any of my stories, I've been sick and sleeping a lot. I've been trying to make myself rest so that I get over this illness quickly. The wonderfully talented _delacre_ has written this chapter, please let her know how much you liked it!**

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There really wasn't any more time to argue about what was going to happen now. They had to get the hell out of Dodge and regroup far away from the mess they'd left in Guthrie. After that last text, John had remained visibly shocked as they'd packed the last of their gear into the cars and had headed out to the interstate to drive the 60 miles to Des Moines.

 _ **"Sorry Johnny. She's ours now!"**_

Sam could tell that the words were undoubtedly replaying on a continuous loop in his father's mind; like they were for everyone else. Dean hadn't made a single sound in the past twenty minutes. He stared straight ahead, his knuckles white as he clutched the steering wheel tightly, a look of utter concentration mixed with anger on his face. Sam had seen Dean determined before, but this was on a whole new level. It seemed like his brother might snap at any moment and to be honest, it was starting to scare him a little.

Nevertheless, they really didn't have time for in-depth emotional analysis; they had to make headway on some kind of plan, and fast. Sam's nervousness made him breathless the first time he tried to speak so he cleared his throat and then did it again for good measure.

"Not now, Sam."

"Uh…"

Dean slowly turned his head to gaze at his brother, staring icily at Sam for a few seconds before returning to the task at hand.

"Ooookay then!" Sam thought to himself, his eyes widening with incredulity. He sighed, though rather quietly and called Bobby. He was bound to get somewhere with him.

"It's Sam," Bobby informed John, whose face remained a wooden mask, "Yeah, I've got the same problem over here…. Yeah, I'll work on him. Uh huh…uh huh….what were you thinking? That might be easier said than done. Yeah, well you're not the one whose gotta convince 'im…."

"What, Bobby?" John's gruff sigh was filled with exaggerated patience.

"Yeah, ok Sam, I'll let you know."

Bobby pivoted in his seat and ignored the other man's glower.

"Sam says that you and your other son are too much alike- stubborn, pig-headed, ornery…"

"Singer, don't think that I can't shoot you and drive at the same time!" the eldest Winchester growled, his teeth clenching as he tried to get control of his temper.

"Good!" Bobby said in a self-satisfied voice, "I've had enough of your sulking, Winchester. Time to get your head around this shit storm fast 'cause Aly can't wait for you to stop feeling sorry for yourself anymore. We've all had to suffer through weeks of that already!"

"What the hell are….!"

"Shut up, John! Let's be honest, that bastard having Aly can't _really_ be that much of a surprise. We've all known it was a possibility from the time she left and now, we gotta be smart. Sam wants us to do what we'd planned- go after The Colt. Let him and Dean start tracking Goddard's path and hopefully, by the time we're all successful, we'll have the how and the where."

John counted to 30 at first and then 50 the next round, trying his damndest to go against his own nature and not react. Instead, he _REALLY_ tried to digest Bobby's accusations. It was hard to be honest with yourself when it was likely that it had been your relentless, selfish pursuit of revenge that might have cost your child her life.

"Okay," he said finally, in resignation, "I get how that makes sense, but I've gotta do this, Bobby. At least for right now. If we get to Des Moines and we get a line on Aly, I….I have to be there to pursue it."

"John…"

"No Bobby. I _have_ to go. If we don't find anything right away, we'll talk about it then."

Bobby considered this. It was quite the capitulation, considering who'd made it and he knew it was probably as good as he was going to get….for now. Without another word to John, he dialed Sam's number.

"Sam. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. What did he say? How long? Okay, we're _all_ going to Des Moines to pick up the trail. If we hit a road block, we'll, uh, split up then."

"What did he say?" John asked.

"He's sent the pictures and texts off to Ash. Sam figures he might be able to analyze the digital signatures and blah, blah forensic software, blah, blah, I don't know. He's gonna see if there's anything in the photos or texts that can pinpoint who sent 'em and from where."

John grinned in spite of himself. He understood where Bobby was coming from. Half the time, he had no idea what Sam was talking about when he waxed poetic about technology and he'd all but given up on having any conversation with Ash that didn't begin and end with beer. Right now, he was more than grateful to have both of their intellects on his side. On Aly's side. He refocused on the road ahead. They were only a half hour away.

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Looking out my bedroom window, I saw the last of the construction team drive away from the house. I gave a small sigh of relief and felt the tension leave my shoulders as I did so. Finally! I smiled to myself, turning away. Now that they were gone, I would be one step closer to feeling safe again. No dozens of pairs of eyes watching my every move or unfamiliar bodies crossing my path around every corner. If I had ever had reason to doubt my new family before, the point was certainly moot now. The last few days had probably been among the worst I'd ever experienced and I knew that I would never have been able to get through any of it without their support. As reluctant as I was to participate in this trip today, I also didn't want to let all the hard yards they'd put in yesterday be for naught. After all, I was a…Wi..a…..

My mind felt a little fuzzy. I hadn't slept well in 4 days and the constant underlying pain playing ping pong between my temples internally was really affecting my ability to concentrate. I shook my head. I'd had enough introspection already this morning to last two lifetimes. It was time to get dressed.

Meg was likely to be bouncing through the door soon and I really wanted everything to go well. Last night, after I'd agreed to hang out with our usual crew, I'd decided that fully embracing this life meant that I was going to be a good daughter and take advantage of having such an enthusiastic big sister. Meg was a great role model for this new world I was living in. I needed to watch and learn how she dealt with the people around her; the other rich kids, their parents and their friends. I was one of the Masters now and I needed to start acting like it.

I decided on another maxi dress, this one made from black linen with lovely embroidered accents all over the bodice and hem. I even chose a little wedge heeled sandal that Meg had insisted I buy during one of our many shopping trips. The bruising on my arm had started to change color and was an ugly reminder of Creeper, so I paired it with a white cotton, long-sleeved shrug.

The knock on my door was a welcomed distraction. As anticipated it was Meg, armed with a professional train case that looked like it was one wand stroke away from being Professor Lupin's trunk. I almost laughed at the seriousness on her face; Meg strove to be a consummate professional where makeup was concerned and comparing her pride and joy to the shabby travelling case of a down-on- your-luck Harry Potter professor, just seemed like a dangerous gamble- even if I hadn't said it aloud.

"Hey Young Padawan," Meg grinned at me. Her mischievous eyes were dancing and her overexuberance was apparent by the extra bounce in her step, "I see my Haute Couture sense of style is strong in you today!"

"Oh my God, Meg! If you've actually taken to making Zeke's dad jokes, we really _do_ need to get out of the house today!"

"My sentiments exactly, Rook." She was already unpacking a few different shades of foundation, laying them out by color gradation. "Now, put this smock on so we can get started. I don't want any of this to get on that fabulous dress."

My eyes widened as she pulled out at least ten different makeup brushes. Apparently this was going to take a while. I sat at my vanity table and left her to it. We chatted about nothing in particular while she worked. It felt great to pretend to be normal again, though there were times while watching Meg's magic unfold that I found myself zoning out. In my mind, I could hear Nicole's exaggerated sneer basically calling me a whore and could see the face of the Scott doppelganger from yesterday standing above and staring down at me. The resulting, almost overwhelming fear, made a cold chill sweep over me. At least this time, I was able to bring _myself_ out of it when those unwelcomed memories pervaded my thoughts. Meg must have noticed something was wrong, because I found her just staring at me in the mirror; clearly she'd stop talking some time ago.

"Where did you go, Rook?" she asked quietly, running her hand down my back.

I smiled warmly at her, acknowledging the gesture, "It's okay, Meg, just got a little stuck in my head. I'm fine, thanks to you and Dad."

Meg leaned over and hugged me tightly, "It's only going to get better from here, Alyson. We're all each other has now and Dad and I can't wait to show you off to everyone. We were talking about taking a trip for the summer, maybe in a few weeks after he ties up some loose ends."

"You mean like a family vacation?"

"Precisely, my dear Watson," she attempted a British accent which made me chuckle, "I think Dad wants to take a road trip to Wyoming. You know, Yellowstone, Cheyenne, The Red Desert…Dad _really_ wants to visit the Red Desert. He's been working especially hard these past few years and he figures that now that he has _two_ special girls in his life, it's time to take advantage of being the boss to fulfil a lifelong dream."

"Wow. Just….wow!" I was dumbfounded, "That's just…. really awesome."

"It's okay, Rook, you're doing _us_ a favor, trust me," Meg beamed, kissing the top of my head, "Now, let's get rid of the rest of these."

All morning she'd been carefully avoiding the use of any words that might trigger one of my 'episodes'. It was still a little embarrassing but appreciated. It took only fifteen more minutes before she deemed me presentable. We still had about half an hour before Glenn was due to come pick us up. We went downstairs to the kitchen to have a quick bite. Zeke had already popped by to say good morning and to let me know that he was heading out early to take care of some crisis at his firm. He had been very sweet and loving and, when I had an attack of self-doubt about venturing out today, he helped allay all my fears. He said that he'd had a talk with Meg about watching out for me more closely. I felt even more self-conscious knowing that they felt that I needed a babysitter, but when he mentioned that it was only short term until I was acting more like myself, I decided I could afford to get a bit of T.L.C..

I was on my second cup of coffee when Charles escorted Glenn, Nicole and Jerry into the kitchen. Glenn came over and enveloped me in his arms, surprising the hell out of, well, all of us really. My eyes wide, I hugged him back after hesitating for a few seconds. I stared at Meg askance and she looked just as startled as I was. When he finally let me go, he gave me a chagrined look and told me that he was sorry for what I'd had to go through because of the 'shithead' and that he and Jason had nearly 'crippled his ass' by the time they were done with him. Jerry was muttering, "Right on!" behind him next to Nicole, who had yet to make eye contact with me.

Honestly, I'd always considered both Jerry and Glenn to be fun loving but mostly vapid guys who Nicole and Meg hung out with out of habit since they'd all known each other since kindergarten. This was the most sincere I'd ever heard him be and it was amazing. I wasn't just Meg's annoying younger friend now, I was finally an accepted member of this group. All of a sudden, I felt the weight of an invisible yoke lift from around my neck and the idea of heading out on the town seemed more exciting than burdensome. Even the sour look on Nicole's face as she pretended to look anywhere but the scene in front of her, wasn't enough to deter me.

I invited them all to sit while I started putting together a quick bite for them. Jerry nudged my shoulder as he walked over to the kitchen island to sit down. I beamed as brightly as Meg usually did, heading over to put the Dalek on to start making coffee. Meg got a phone call from Zeke and stepped out for a minute.

A few croissants and muffins later, she reappeared looking somewhat less…..Meglike. I raised my eyebrows questioningly at her and she stared intensely at me for a minute before she smiled and shrugged good-naturedly. I decided to leave it at that because she'd basically indicated that everything was alright and I really wanted to keep this good buzz I was feeling, going. Glenn polished off his second muffin and got up, saying that we really needed to get a move on if we were going to get to the amusement park early. A new attraction, the locally and aptly nicknamed, 'Puke-o-matic' had recently opened and had built up quite the reputation for causing multiple riders to throw up either during or after the ride. Needless to say, the boys thought it would be hilarious to try it out. I told them that if my dress got ruined there would be hell to pay. At that, Nicole suddenly burst out laughing and I looked at her in surprise. Meg turned, likely preparing to take her to task for mocking me but Nicole waved her off, saying that the comment had honestly struck her as funny. I smiled at Nicole indulgently, deciding I didn't care either way. She wasn't going to get to me today. It was time to get on with it so I said, "Let's go!"

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Dean parked the Impala in front of the restaurant and looked around. They'd already visited the Iowa Soyabean Association in Ankeny, a short 20 minute drive from Des Moines. They'd met a lovely receptionist, Janice, who seemed to take an immediate shine to Sam. She especially loved his shaggy hair which she'd likened to a ripe bunch of soya bean pods hanging from a plant. Dean had been intensely focused on the mission since Guthrie, but it took all the self-control he had not to burst out laughing when his embarrassed brother turned several shades of red. Evidently, he hadn't been all that successful given that Janice had quickly gushed with concern over him when she noticed the strange contortions of Dean's face as he attempted to rein in his mirth. Sam's response, a supreme bitch face, 'Now with Technicolor!', just made the situation worse. It was all Dean could do not to choke to death. As Janice turned away to get Dean a glass of water, he snapped a quick picture of Sam's expression, narrowly avoiding his brother's Gigantor arm as he tried to swipe the phone. Dean pointedly stuck it back in his suit pocket, carefully patting it while smirking at the scowling Sam. When this was all over, he would make sure that Sammy relived this moment as often as possible which meant, all the time. He accepted the glass from Janice and ignored Sam, who'd turned away from him and asked after Andy.

Janice was a veritable fount of information. After they'd broken the news about his unfortunate 'accident,' she'd been only too willing to share the dates of all of Andy's visits from the past two months. She'd even named a few of the local eateries he'd favored. They'd managed to visit three of them in the past 30 minutes. In each establishment, everyone had spoken well of Andy's character though it seemed they only knew superficial details about his life. It wasn't exactly nothing, but there wasn't much to go on either.

Bobby and John had headed down to Des Moines to get a head start over there. They, too, had canvassed a number of the businesses that Carrie had mentioned to Sam. Again, the effort had been a waste of time. It seemed that Andy, though well liked, had stuck to a relatively tight schedule on his trips to the capital. So, like the boys, they had come up relatively empty. The plan now, was for the four of them to meet up afterwards in Swanwood to decide their next move.

"Look," Dean said, as he stared at the clocks on the steeple-like entrance of the Ankeny Diner, "Why don't you let me go in there. I'll be in and out fast and then we can head down to the meeting point."

"I'm fine, Dean. We have at least 10 counties to get through before we can even head back in Guthrie's direction. I appreciate what you're trying to do but I _have_ to do this. I don't need protection, not from this, alright. Aly needs us at 100% and I'm all in."

"Yeah?" Dean's voice held a hint of sarcasm, as he turned more fully on the seat, "So tell me what the hell all those secret phone calls with Missouri have been about. I don't care what Dad says, hunting demons is a team sport, Sam and we're at the bottom of the 9th here. We have to do this together, all of it, or we aren't going to get her back. Now, maybe you can sit here and pretend that visiting every diner, coffee shop, restaurant and Farmer's Market in the state of Iowa is somehow going to lead us to our little sister, but I can't. We either get serious about this or she's got no chance. You heard what Dad said. He's been hunting this son of a bitch since we were kids and he _still_ has no idea what the hell he wants with any of you. Right now he has Aly and he could be doing _anything_ to her. That hellbitch in Guthrie told us that it was tying up loose ends. How long do you think it's gonna be before we run out of dead bodies and it's too late for our sister?"

"We're doing everything we can. Missouri…I...we've been trying to connect with Aly together but it's been slow going so far. She thinks that something's been blocking Aly's ability to manifest her powers."

Dean's look turned from frustration to anger.

"Would that have something to do with how you thought Aly had been beaten up?" His voice was deceptively calm but Sam could tell that his brother was one wrong word away from exploding. He'd been fending off Dean's questions about his last vision of Aly and his talks with Missouri for weeks now. He didn't have any doubt that Dean might be driven to violence if he didn't tread carefully here.

"I think that something happened to her that night. I..I'm not sure, I couldn't tell exactly…."

"Sam, quit trying to find a way to bullshit me and spit it out!"

Sam averted his eyes and swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry, "As I said, I'm not sure because it was only a sensation but I think Aly may have been a…assaulted."

Dean's sharp intake of breath had Sam quickly whirling his head around. His brother's eyes were full of unfettered rage and Sam drew back slightly. Right now it was safe to say that Dean was capable of anything.

"You kept that to yourself?" Dean's voice was strained and his hands clenched so tightly that Sam could see the corded tendons. A few minutes went by in complete silence.

"Stay here," Dean said rigidly as he climbed out of the car, slamming the door.

Sam stared after him. It was pretty obvious that his brother was still pissed and he knew that Dean had a pretty long memory when it came to what he considered to be, betrayal. Sam ran his hand through his hair and watched Dean disappear into the restaurant. This was going to be really bad. There was no doubt in his mind that his brother would want to share this information with their father and Bobby and then he'd be really screwed. Sam took out his phone and, with a quick glance at the front doors, called Missouri.

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Sometime later, Baby pulled up outside the Travelodge off I-69. Bobby and John were sitting in the Sierra, heads bent together as the glow of a cell phone dimly lit the front seats they were occupying. Dean knocked on the driver's side window, causing the occupants to jump a little.

"Dean," John Winchester opened the window, "We were just about to get a room but I got a text from Ash."

" _You_ got a text from _Ash?_ " The look on Sam's face was comical.

"Yeah," John replied, getting out of the truck.

Bobby followed suit, walking ahead to the main office. "I'll get us a room."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean called after him, grabbing his father's duffle from the back, "Since when does Ash contact you directly?"

"Since he was terrified of the possibility of having to speak to you," John replied with a smirk.

"Yeah, well, maybe he shouldn't be prioritizing tequila shots and siestas over the people depending on him!" Dean growled and John looked at him in surprise.

"The A.T.F….."

"Oh, I think you should worry about yourself, Sam," Dean didn't spare a glance for his brother, his cutting tone causing their father to look back and forth between them. He wondered what had caused this latest, icy divide.

"You might want to think up a good reason why Dad shouldn't pummel you when he hears what you did."

"What is he talking about?" John turned to Sam, who was gritting his teeth under the weight of both his and Dean's bags.

"I'll tell you inside," Sam replied, stiffly, walking past both of them towards Bobby who had re-emerged with a set of room keys dangling from his hand.

The three Winchesters marched single file into the hotel, John exceptionally curious yet still dreading Sam's upcoming revelation. They decided to have lunch first, pizza and beer, which Dean left to buy as soon as he'd tossed the bag by one of the beds. The rest of the occupants stared after him then at Sam, the latter swallowing uncomfortably.

"Might as well just get it over with," said Bobby, encouragingly. He'd been around the Winchesters long enough to be able to read the situation perfectly.

It took a few minutes, but Sam confessed his theory about Aly to the two older men. That Dean Winchester was clearly John's son was apparent when the sharp intake of breath and look of near madness in his John's eyes made Sam recoil with the profound feeling of déjà vu.

The eldest Winchester scrutinized his middle child for a moment, damping down on his need to lash out verbally. He was trying his best to learn from past mistakes and frankly, his son didn't need the obvious pointed out to him when he was so clearly castigating himself over it.

Finally, trusting himself to speak with a modicum of self-control, John laid his hand on Sam's shoulder and looked directly into his son's eyes.

"I understand the position you were in and I get trying to protect us when there wasn't anything we could have done anyway, but she's not just your sister, Sammy, she's my child. _My_ child and I had a right to know, understand?"

His words were delivered with a quiet intensity, designed to sting but not destroy. Sam closed his eyes briefly, nodding his head slightly in acknowledgement. That had turned out better than he could have hoped; he was still alive, after all. John squeezed his shoulder briefly and then let go and Sam knew that is was over. Dean returned 15 minutes later and they ate and talked about Ash's latest intel.

Whoever had sent the texts had been a 'player' as Ash had put it; savvy with a depth of knowledge about the latest digital signature scrub techniques that rivalled his own. He'd been sufficiently impressed that after five minutes of effusive praise about this 'worthy rival's' top notch work, John had told Ash to just text him with any other relevant details and hung up. Unfortunately, there weren't any and Ash had messaged soon after, apologizing profusely, asking John to inform Dean that he'd done everything he could.

Dean wasn't all that impressed but then, it was clear that he was still running on a low simmer from earlier. Comparing notes, the four men had also hit roadblocks in their respective cities. There was nothing out of the ordinary thus far at any of Andy's usual spots, so it was back to plan C- use the internet at the hotel to come up with a new strategy. As Sam had mentioned, there were still around 10 counties left to check out before they could concede that the mission was a bust; no one was prepared to do that yet.

After mapping out the routes to cover the last of Andy's stops, they also devised the best game plan for John and Bobby to go after The Colt. Pastor Jim had said, that through the hunter grapevine, word had spread about a retired friend of John's, Daniel Elkins of Colorado having died suddenly and under mysterious circumstances. Rumor had it that, in the days before his death, he'd been found wandering around the town centre, disheveled and acutely delirious, talking about his special gun and the 'devils it could send back to Hell.' That his remote cottage had shortly thereafter been ransacked and burnt to the ground with him in it, hadn't surprised anyone in the supernatural community. Manning, Colorado was almost 10 hours away and if the gun was indeed what they were looking for, The Winchesters were already at a major disadvantage. John was stubbornly adamant that they needed to dedicate as much time as possible to investigating Andy's route because they needed to find Aly fast. Bobby had forestalled the frustrated Sam and had taken the lead in pointing out that Azazel had been several steps ahead of them for quite some time now and it was damned sure that if they'd heard the rumors, the demon had too. They had to go now if there was ever going to be a chance of getting to it first.

John remained hesitant, which made Sam's guilt spike. He felt that his father's reluctance had quite a bit to do with Aly's likely assault and the fact that there was no way to know what else the Yellow-Eyed Demon had done to her since. Bobby had simply told John to get packed up because they were going after The Colt and he and the Sierra would be out of there in 15 minutes, with or without him. John had had a few choice words in reply to that threat but Bobby had explained with exaggerated, sarcastic patience that since John had known Elkins better than anyone else in Team Winchester, it went without saying that any operation to retrieve the gun had to include him. And, no matter where Aly was, they weren't going to get anywhere without at least one surefire way to kill a demon of Azazael's obvious strength.

John had glared at Bobby again, ignoring the head bobbing from his sons who were in obvious agreement. It had taken 12 of those 15 minutes, but John had grabbed his duffle from where Dean had dropped it earlier and walked silently out of the room. Bobby, slight smirk on his face had tipped the brim of his cap at the boys and followed him out.

"We'll call him later," Sam said quietly to Dean, who had opened another bottle of beer and had moved to sit on one of the beds, "He'll be calmer then. Let's get back on the road and cross off as many of these counties as we can before it gets much later. We can still make the Clinton and Manchester Area Chambers of Commerce today and maybe that rest stop off the I-80 in Williamsburg before we can come back here and call it a night. We can head to Cedar Rapids in the morning."

"Is that it?" Dean asked nonchalantly, taking another sip as he casually put his feet up on the bed.

"Is what it?" Sam was confused. He'd thought they had gone over this already.

"Well I don't know, Sam," Dean's voice was hard, "I can't tell when you're lying to me so I don't know if there's anything else that you're leaving out for my own good. That's what you told yourself, right? That's how you justified the crap you pulled to yourself?"

"Dean," Sam shook his head, sorrow written all over his face, "I talked with Dad and Bobby. They weren't happy but they understood. Please, even if you can't forgive me, can't you just try to see it from my side? Even a little? No, don't answer yet. Just think about it. In the meantime, we have a plan to follow, okay?"

Dean thought there might have been a slight, if remote chance that he was being unnecessarily shitty to his brother but ever since those texts to John, he'd felt like his entire soul was ready to explode with rage. Sure, they'd conceded that they all had a part to play in driving Aly right into the arms of that jaundiced-eyed bastard, but Sammy and Aly had been his responsibility from the time he could walk. It was the fundamental principle of the Winchesters- family above all else. Aly had run away on his watch, and to have their worst fears confirmed by some smug, sadistic hell spawn, and via text message, no less, had almost broken him. It was the additional weight of his imagination running amuck, however, filled with horrific thoughts of what might be happening to Aly while he was stuck playing some fucked up version of a scavenger hunt, that was more than he was willing to take. In the deeper recesses of his heart, he was sure that he'd already forgiven Sammy but his brother was an easy target for his impotent ire right now, and Dean was not below taking it out on him if it helped to get him through this.

Dean mustered as much charity as he could. Sam was right; he might not have the capacity for forgiveness right now, but they still had a job to do. It was best to just get on with it and to try reconciling later when this was all over.

"You're right," he said, chugging the last of the beer, "Let's go."

He tossed the bottle in the trash, grabbing a second handgun from his duffle and stuffing it into his boot. He left Sam to follow and his brother took a moment to collect himself. They'd deal with all this later. Right now, Aly had to come first.

Sometimes, it seemed, no news _wasn't_ good news. Frankly, under these circumstances, it was downright soul crushing. Sam and Dean had managed to squeeze in an extra Chamber of Commerce before heading to the Williamsburg rest-stop; the latter popular among long haul truckers and vacationers alike. No one at the haunts they'd visited, had seen hide nor hair of Aly. A few people had heard about Andy's tendency to help stray kids from the man himself but they had certainly never been introduced to any of them and no one remembered ever seeing a girl matching Aly's description. Sam could feel the frustration rolling off of Dean in waves but there was nothing he could do. He was feeling just as helpless but like any case, they had to be systematic; they had to work the leads.

He remained quiet, knowing his brother might snap at any moment. Dean sighed as he pulled into the parking lot. He looked at Sam, his eyes piercing.

"We might as well have dinner here too," he began, his voice paradoxically relaxed, "Come on."

Sam got out of the Impala and followed him. They went into the restaurant, sitting at a booth near the window that overlooked the carpark. Sam looked outside as Dean surveyed the menu. He took note of everything- the separate restrooms across the lot, the row of vending machines near the restaurant and the rows and rows of vehicles scattered everywhere. He wasn't paying much attention as he ordered the warm beef salad. He looked around when Dean scoffed with derision after ordering a burger and fries for himself.

"What?" he asked, focusing on his brother.

"Waste of good beef," Dean snarked, picking up his Coke and taking a healthy sip.

Sam glared mildly, fighting the childish urge to retaliate. Dean was extending an olive, not the whole branch and he was more than happy to accept it. He needed to handle his brother- delicately. Sam smiled inwardly, knowing that if he'd openly associated that word with Dean, the latter might have stabbed him through the eye with one of his fries.

They'd been eating in silence for a few minutes, Dean clearly mellowing out once the taste of melted cheese, hamburger patty and 'the works' he'd ordered, hit his tongue. Sam was halfway through his salad when they got a text from Bobby. Apparently, he and John were close to Manning and were heading straight to Elkin's cabin. He'd update them once they found something.

Dean looked at him questioningly and Sam shook his head. Dean ordered pie. It was when the waitress, Roberta was returning with his second slice that Sam identified himself as an FBI agent and asked if she'd ever seen Aly. She studied the picture he'd placed on the table for a few moments, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"You know," she said, picking up the photo and looking more closely at it, "She looks like that girl from the parking lot a few months ago.'

Dean dropped his fork noisily startling both Sam and Roberta. "You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah…pretty sure. I remember her because she had that run-in with that homeless guy."

Sam put his hand up to stop the inevitable onslaught from Dean; he didn't want to scare her away.

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"I was running a little late for work and I saw it. This guy attacked her out in the lot and then this older man came to her rescue. Think he was there with his daughter cause later, the three of them came in here and ate in my section. Poor kid! That guy really did a number on her. Her eye swelled up really fast but that father and daughter were really nice to her."

"How do you mean?"

"They paid for her meal and I think she left with them. She never seemed scared or anything and I didn't get any creepy vibes, so I wasn't so worried. Clearly they were trying to help her. She's a runaway, right?"

Sam nodded quickly, turning to look at Dean. He was pretty sure they were thinking the same thing.

"Have you ever seen the father and daughter in here before?" Dean asked urgently, "Can you describe them?"

"No, sorry," Roberta was apologetic, "I don't really remember much about them. I was really flustered and it was very busy. To tell you the truth, the kid's shiner caught all my attention. If you want I can ask the other staff…"

"Yes, that would be great," Sam glanced between the waitress and Dean nervously. Dean was right on the edge, now.

"Tell me Roberta," Dean's jaw was clenched, "Why didn't you call the police when you saw what happened to this girl."

"Uh," she looked startled and confused, "I…I don't know. It…it was really busy and…and I was really flustered. The kid's shiner really caught all my attention."

Dean spun his head around to look at Sam. Obviously someone had tampered with this woman's memory. It was really unlikely that they were going to get any more useful details from her. Dean shook his head in resignation. He dropped a few bills on the table and snatched up Aly's picture.

"Let's go, Sam."

Dean was half way to the door before Sam could finish apologizing to Roberta. He moved quickly to the exit and half ran to catch up with his brother at Baby's side.

"Dean?"

"Don't talk to me right now, Sam," Dean got into the car and started it. Sam barely had time to close the door before he peeled away. It probably took half as much time to get back to the motel as it should have. Dean didn't seem to care that they were driving along crowded city streets or that speed limits weren't suggestions. That they hadn't managed to encounter any local police along the way, was nothing short of miraculous. When they pulled up in front of the Travelodge, Dean sat immobile as Sam prepared to open the door. He stopped, realizing that Dean hadn't turned the engine off. He was about to take the chance and ask what Dean was doing when his brother said in a low, even voice, "Get out."

"Uh, Dean…"

"Now, Sam."

Sam refused to be intimidated, "Not until you tell me what you're going to do."

"I'm done, Sammy," he seemed slightly calmer, resolved even, "We've been fucking around for months; Dad's keeping secrets, you're keeping secrets and all this time, Aly's been in the clutches of this bastard. _For the second time, Sam!_ Well now, _we're_ out of time, _she's_ out of time and I'm _done_ playing nice."

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Dean finally turned towards him, the look in his green eyes one Sam had never seen before. He found it truly terrifying, "Now, _!"_

Against his better judgment, or maybe because of it, Sam did exactly that. He _really_ hoped that his brother was planning on taking off to find the nearest dive bar so he could drink himself into oblivion, crawl his way back to the motel and come to his senses by the morning. He grabbed his bag from the trunk and moved away from the Impala a little as Dean gave him one more look and drove away.

Sam knew that that hope was just a fool's dream. It was time for him to step it up too. He pulled out his cell phone and called Missouri.


	23. Chapter 23

I was surprised by how much I'd been enjoying myself. Meg had taken on a new persona for this outing: social director. Apparently, she'd roped the others, even Nicole to some extent, into her quest to make the day perfect for me. They all let me line up ahead of them for every ride and Jerry and Glenn gave me pick of all the prizes they'd won from the carnival games, even starting a shoving match between them over who would get to buy me one of those smoked turkey legs when I'd said I was hungry. Meg had had to separate them so we wouldn't get escorted away from the outdoor stand. It was all rather amusing, if not touching. So I'd tried, as promised, to really commit to moving on from the hell that was the past few days. It was working. I could feel it within myself- a new confidence and strength that was going to make me whole again.

We'd spent most of the morning at the park before Nicole complained about being bored so we drove around aimlessly for a while, talking and laughing about any and everything. Meg, of course, didn't think that we could have a day out without going shopping, so we spent a few hours looking at hiking gear for the upcoming trip to Wyoming. By gear, she meant clothes. I honed right in on the designer plaid which really appealed to me. She kept trying to sway me back to more classic monotone and two toned styles, but I ignored most of what she suggested. There was just something about the plaid that I found comforting and homey; warming, both inside and out.

I could tell she was annoyed but she also got over it quickly. Nicole smirked at me when Meg said we should leave because we weren't getting anywhere and we could do this some other time. I was kind of surprised that she'd taken such a hard line over the choice of material but, as we followed her back to the car, Jerry whispered to me that I should remember that we were talking about Meg and fashion. I smiled a little, appreciative of his attempts to smooth things over. I was really going to have to make a greater effort to get to know him and Glenn. Hidden depths, apparently.

We made it back to the car in time for us to hear Glenn refereeing an argument between the other two. Meg was telling off Nicole for being a first class bitch and for trying her best to screw up the day for me. Nicole sneered back that it was a pathetic look to see her groveling at my feet, worrying about whether or not I liked blue laces with my hiking boots or curly versus straight-cut fries. Glenn was telling them both to calm down and that their bickering was getting old. Nicole finally noticed me and she smirked nastily. I grinned which I could tell confused her. Meg spun around, her expression one of tremendous frustration. Seemed that they'd been at this for a while and maybe not for the first time. I'd said that Meg was a great role model for this new world I was in. I guess it was time to see how much I'd learned.

I placed my hands on my hips and called Nicole's name with as much fake cheerfulness as I could muster. She turned around on the seat more fully, looking expectantly at me as I peered through the back passenger window at her.

"Are you sure you know what pathetic means, Nic?" I asked brightly, though the expression on the face surely reflected my hostility, "Cause the only one in this group that's _ever_ matched that description is _you_. I mean, what exactly is your problem with me? Do you really have no other friends at all? Is that why you're jealous of me and my relationship with Meg? Honestly, I don't know why I'm bothering to ask- of course you are! Zeke and Meg want me, Nicole. I'm part of their family because _they_ want me! Are you really that selfish that you can't see how much that means to me and to them? Well I'm sorry that your sixteen year old brain is so underdeveloped that you don't yet realize that normal people have the capacity to love more than one person at the same time. If you're too immature to get that or they never taught that to you on your home planet, I'm sorry, but you can either get with the program or fuck off because the rest of us are moving on. If you can learn to repress your natural instincts and stop being the stuck up, nasty little bitch you were clearly born to be, maybe you can eventually join the rest of us, but until then, why don't you shut the fuck up! We can have a good time today with or without you, Nicole, so hurry up and decide what you'd like to do."

Glenn's mouth had been open in shock the whole time, but as my rant progressed, he'd had a hard time suppressing his astonished laughter.

"Oh my God!" Jerry cackled, holding his hand up to his mouth in disbelief, "The Masters' baby just became the Master!"

Meg remained silent but the proud, self-satisfied look on her face said it all. She was clearly enjoying my sudden bravado and the effect it was having on Nicole. The subject of my ire was just staring at me, an unflattering, dumbstruck expression on her face. Nicole gaped at me as if she'd never seen me before and I guess that she hadn't. Not the new improved Alyson, anyway. The one who was motivated more than ever to stand up for herself against all comers, especially now that she had an amazing support system behind her. Besides, Nicole was likely to be the easiest example of what I'd be facing in high school next year. If I couldn't take _her_ on, then I was going to be pretty miserable when the other rich bitches inevitably went after me. Having Meg there for back up would help, of course, but I was going to have to stand up for myself sometime and there was no time like the present.

I decided she'd had long enough.

"I guess from your silence and that stupid look on your face that you understand me now, right? 'Cause we're more than happy to leave your ass on the side of the road if you want. All good? Excellent! Now move over, we need to go get something to eat."

She scooted over wordlessly, as Glenn choked a little attempting to calm down.

"Good call, Nicole!" I really couldn't resist one last dig.

I settled in, then remarked airily, "You know, putting bitches in their place really makes me thirsty!"

"Me too!" Jerry laughed, sliding into the front passenger seat next to Glenn. He started the car, as I put on my seatbelt and we drove off. My mind was whirling. I wish I'd regretted any of that but I really didn't. Nicole had had it in for me since I'd arrived and as far as I was concerned, with my backbone newly reinforced with adamantium, I wasn't going to take her crap anymore.

We'd been driving around for 10 minutes when Meg asked me where I wanted to go. When I told her that I really felt like something cloyingly sweet, she suggested a slushie from a Gas-n-Sip. Glenn seconded that idea because he wanted to fill up anyways. We found one a few minutes later and he pulled up beside one of the pumps.

The rest of us entered the store while he filled the tank. Nicole stayed in the front, sulking a little but still finding the 'courage' to flirt with the really cute attendant on duty. Meg and I headed to the back aisles to check out the snacks. She scoffed as we listened to an overly loud and completely insincere Nicole go after the guy like he was her Prince Charming.

"She's trying to pretend she doesn't care about what just happened," Meg said rolling her eyes as she grabbed a bag of chips, "Don't worry about her, she'll get over it. She doesn't have a choice anyways 'cause you're here to stay."

"It's already forgotten, as far as I'm concerned," I replied, trying to choose between Gummy Bears and Sour Patch Kids. I decided on both. "It's a waste of my time, Meg. Either she likes me or she doesn't and frankly my dear, I don't give a damn which!"

"I've gotta stop you and Dad from watching all those old movies late at night," Meg laughed as she picked up a pack of Oreos, "You're starting to use outdated references more and more because of him."

"I love watching those movies with him," I said quietly, my voice suddenly shy.

"I know, Rook." She briefly touched my shoulder. "Dad knows how much I hate them so he was really happy to find out that you enjoyed them. He told me so. He likes that it's something special you two can do together."

"Did he really?" I was a little surprised and secretly pleased, "And you're okay with that, right?"

"Of course," she stated like I was being silly to think otherwise, "to both questions. Stop doubting it, little sister, you're one of us now. You know that, don't you?"

I hugged her to me with one arm, "Sure, although, I find your lack of faith…disturbing."

"Just for that, you don't get the Gummies." Meg took them out of my hands with feigned sternness.

I mock pouted, picking up a pack of Twizzlers and sticking my tongue out at her.

She laughed and turned to walk to the front of the store.

In the time we'd been chatting, the cute attendant had disappeared and an older man named Roger had taken his place behind the counter. Meg and I plopped our bounty in front of him and then I ordered an ice cold blueberry slush.

Nicole had the usual sour look on her face and was already sipping on what amounted to a vat of iced tea. It must have been one of those 64 ouncers and she looked ridiculous.

"Thirsty?" I asked sarcastically, not waiting for a response as I watched Roger start to ring up our items.

"That one said to add the tea to your tab," Roger jerked his head towards Nicole, who grinned at me unrepentantly.

"Yeah, no," I said, shaking my head, "Don't know her."

Nicole laughed, genuinely amused as she said, "Good for you Baby Masters. Looks like you have some stones after all."

I turned to Meg to say something sarcastic about Nicole again when I heard Roger say, "Hey, what the hell are you doing kid?"

At the panic in his voice, I whirled around to see Nicole pointing a Smith & Wesson 4505 at him, a look of maniacal glee on her face.

"Sorry Roger," she said with fake despair, "I think I'd like my drink to be free anyways!"

"Just take it then, take anything you want," he pleaded, raising his hands in the air, "Please don't hurt me. I have a wife and kids at home!"

Jerry stormed up the aisle behind Nicole and stood right in front of Roger. "Open the fucking register!" he shouted, "Give us all the money!"

He looked angry as he pulled out a Glock and waved it carelessly in front of the older man.

I stared at both of them in shock which quickly morphed into fear. Wait. How did I recognize those guns? I shook my head to clear that stray thought away for the moment and then I yelled at them, "What the hell are you two…?"

Meg elbowed me, "Shut up!" she hissed, pulling back on my arm.

"Get off me, Meg!" I dragged my hand away, turning fully towards the disaster taking place in front of me.

Roger banged on the register a couple of times. "Drawer gets stuck…" he said apologetically.

"Oh my God!" Glenn suddenly appeared, his phone in his hand recording the chaos, "What are we doing, guys?"

"We?" I shouted angrily, thinking that there _must_ have been something in the air making them all go stupid simultaneously.

Roger leaned down, pushing at the cash drawer and then in the blink of an eye, he was swinging a double barreled shotgun across the counter, pointing it directly at Nicole.

"Drop the gun, shithead, or your friend here dies!" he sneered at Jerry.

Glenn had wandered ridiculously close to Roger, positioning his phone this way and that, as if he was trying to work out the best angles to capture the action.

"Hey Scorsese," Nicole called to him, in an annoyed tone, "You might want to back up…"

She was right. Roger used the distraction to reach across the counter and whack Glenn in the face with the butt of the gun. He went down in a crumpled heap.

Things happened very fast then. Meg turned and yelled at me to run as Roger fired at a quickly fleeing Jerry who dove behind a shelf of bread and pastries.

Nicole, who had clearly gone nuts, stood her ground and fired a shot which narrowly missed Roger's head. Chunks of the cheap ceiling panel rained down over him as he ducked for cover. Laughing like a hyena, Nicole fired again.

Meg physically dragged me closer to where Jerry lay on the floor moaning in pain, clutching his shoulder. It seemed that he'd dislocated it during his fall.

We heard the shotgun go off again and a shower of broken bread pieces scattered over us. I shrieked as I felt a gush of wind on my face as the bullet passed close to my head.

"Pick up the gun! Pick it up and shoot him!" Meg cried, pointing to the Glock which was half hidden under a bag of hotdog buns about a foot away.

"What? Are you crazy?" I cried, wondering what the hell was happening, "This is insane, Meg! We have to stop this! I… I can't do -"

"You're such a chickenshit!" Nicole shouted from right behind me. At some point she had taken cover in our aisle. She grabbed Jerry's gun and fired again at the counter.

"Give us the money and we won't kill you! _Now_ , asshole!"

"Too late, sweetheart!" Roger sneered, "While you little bitches were arguing, I pressed the panic button. Cops'll be here soon."

"Dammit!" Meg said.

Glenn started to stir on the ground, groaning as his hand reached for his forehead. He was bleeding profusely from a cut above his swollen right eye and a bruise was already forming.

Nicole fired again.

"You're gonna regret that, old man! We aren't leaving here without the money and I'll kill you if I have to."

"Sorry little girl, no can do!"

"Nicole, stop it!" I pulled on the back of her shirt and she spun around, the gun in her hand smacking the side of my head as she did so.

Pain exploded in my temple and I sunk to my hands and knees. I could see colors flashing too brightly before my eyes, forcing me to close them. I rocked a little, the faint sound of approaching sirens becoming clearer as I vaguely heard Meg shout at Nicole and Nicole shouting at Jerry.

I was suddenly hauled up by the back of my dress, causing me to stumble on my heels. Nicole was still firing at the counter while she and Jerry dragged a dazed Glenn to his feet. Meg picked up his phone as we raced for the door and I felt a shot fly past me closely overhead. It hit the wall above the glass door and Glenn screamed in pain. Blood spread quickly and ominously across his back.

"Oh God!" I shrieked, as I helped to keep him moving.

Glenn had nearly sagged all the way to the ground by the time we made it around the side of the building. For some unfathomable reason, we were heading towards an adjoining parking lot and I swore under my breath. Our 'getaway' was taking way too long and a feeling of absolute dread sunk over me. It seemed to weigh more than Glenn.

"Get in!" screamed Meg, wrenching open the back door of a car I'd never seen before. She shoved Glenn through while Nicole ran around to the other side to help drag him in.

"Whose car is this?" I shouted at her.

I never got an answer because it was already too late. At least four police cars appeared from all directions. It wasn't a surprise that they'd managed to identify us so quickly, given that Jerry decided to fire at Roger in front of them; the clerk had followed us out of the store presumably to point us out to the officers. I laughed. Of course. There really wasn't any better response to this situation. The absurdity of it made me want to howl until I cried.

Nicole finished dragging Glenn in around the same time that I ducked behind the open door. I could see the cops taking up similar positions once they'd identified us as the perpetrators. One of them pulled out a bullhorn and told us to drop our weapons and put our hands up. Meg, who had hidden behind the trunk with Jerry, was pulling his shoulder back into place. He screamed when she was finished, using his shirt to form a make-shift sling as they stayed hidden. I looked over to see Nicole, still out in the open shrieking with laughter as if she thought the whole thing was some movie she was watching rather than real life. She took a potshot at Roger, who launched himself behind a huge planter on the sidewalk. The bullet missed by a mile and I was shocked when the police didn't open fire. When they called her 'kid' and told her to drop the weapon, I assumed that they'd noticed how young we were and were trying to save our lives. __ _I_ was pretty appreciative. _Nicole_ didn't seem to care. She swore at them rather colorfully and I shook my head at her in disbelief. Obviously she thought this was a good day to die and she didn't care who she took down with her. I took a few breaths, trying to calm my panic. I was going to die here today because Nicole apparently had no healthy outlets for her psychopathy (read: she was a rich, spoiled brat who felt she owned the world).

I wiped away the blood that had started to drip into my eyes. The longer I crouched here, the more fear overwhelmed me and the worse the pain in my head got. I really couldn't see any way out of this that didn't include a pine box or a sentence of 20 to life in an adult, maximum security prison. My new life was over; there was no amount of money or lawyer good enough to get us out of this.

I hardly heard the repeated police attempts to talk us down because I could barely think straight. But I knew that panic was useless right now, so I forced myself to take a few deep breaths. I needed to focus. As I calmed, I heard Meg screaming at Nicole to get down. Jerry, in the meantime, had managed to crawl around behind me.

"What are you doing?" I whispered frantically. He ignored me and crawled in next to Glenn, half covering him as he tried to stay out of sight.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

Glenn mumbled something unintelligible while clutching his back pocket. Jerry reached into it and pulled out a hard drive.

"What is that?" I asked.

"It's the surveillance footage," he replied, "Watch out!"

He put it on the ground and fired a bullet into the middle of it.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" I screamed, as I felt Meg suddenly dragging me backwards into the car. Jerry ignored me, picking up the remains of the drive and putting it back into Glenn's pocket. He pushed Glenn onto the floor and put pressure on the wound on his back. My body scraped over the doorsill as Meg hauled me in next to her, pushing my head down as far as possible in the cramped space.

"We're in!" she called to Nicole, who was now hiding behind the driver's side door.

Meg looked down at me, her eyes gleaming with excitement, "We're getting out of here, Rook!"

"Meg!" I cried, my voice breaking. "What….why…..?"

I shook my head at her unable to say anymore.

"Get into the front, Alyson."

I just kept staring at her. She smiled then.

"Don't worry, little sister, it's almost over," she cooed, her voice adopting a strange, foreign cadence.

I looked up at her, my brows furrowed in surprise. What…what _was_ this? And better yet, where in the hell did this car come from?

I didn't have time to ponder any more. The police had clearly had enough; Nicole's firing at one of their cruisers as we drove off clearly providing an excellent catalyst for their impatience. The police wasted no time in firing at us once they realized we were making a break for it. Glass from the back window sprayed all over us as we raced away.

Sirens blaring and lights flashing, the cops were getting closer every minute and I could feel myself getting frantic again. My migraine had fully taken hold now and my eyes watered constantly as a result. Nicole was speeding haphazardly through surface streets with no care for other cars or pedestrians and I felt sure we were going to crash at any minute. A bullet shattered the right side mirror as one of the cruisers drew up directly behind us.

Nicole was all business now, swerving into oncoming traffic in an attempt to lose them. I screamed as a Mack truck appeared right in front of us forcing Nicole to swing the car onto the sidewalk in front of a café. Patrons dove for cover as the maneuver caused a heavy outdoor table to careen through their glass door into the busy shop front. I whipped my head around to see the aftermath. There was glass everywhere and there was no doubt that more than a few people had gotten hurt. Meg pushed me between the front seats and told me to go sit next to Nicole. She was probably right; there wasn't enough room in the back for all of us to make it through this kamikaze joyride without losing limbs if we weren't strapped in. I righted myself in the front and took hold of the seatbelt. I had just managed to buckle myself in after four tries when a tremendous crash on my side of the car took my breath away. One of the pursuing vehicles, with a heavy grille guard, had rammed into us from a cross street. The impact lifted the car onto the two left wheels and the subsequent unearthly grinding vibrated through my entire body before our car righted itself. How we managed to keep going was a testament to Nicole's driving skills or pure dumb luck. Either way, she turned down a side street to get away from the car which now took up the lead position in the pursuit.

"That was awesome, Nicole! All that Super Mario Kart you played as a kid was worth it!" Jerry wheezed from the back, trying for some reason to lighten the mood.

"Shut up!" I screamed at him, my senses returning somewhat, "Nicole, stop the car! They're going to kill us, you idiot! We have to surrender!"

" _You_ shut up, Alyson!" she shouted back at me, her face full of loathing, "All this is your fault, anyways!"

"What is? That you're a psychopath?" I asked incredulously, "No, I'm pretty sure were mentally disturbed when I met you!"

"She's a little busy driving, Rook!" Meg interjected calmly, "This isn't the time for some in depth discussion about our _feelings._ "

"Seeing as how we could be killed at any moment here, I think it's the _perfect_ time, actually!"

I heard a deafening gunshot and looked around in alarm to see Jerry leaning out of the window firing on the police cars behind us.

Nicole laughed, a crazed look in her eyes as she narrowly missed slamming us into a Kia Sport that she'd overtaken via the sidewalk. She veered wildly around a corner leading away from the main road. The action sent the others toppling over each other in the back. Glenn screamed with pain as Jerry's elbow slammed into his spine.

"He's losing a lot of blood!" Meg shouted frantically, "I don't know if he's going to make it!"

I spun in my seat to peer down at him. The entire back of his shirt was red and he was making little hitching sounds with his breathing. She was right. There was a real possibility that Glenn could die. I couldn't help but remember this morning when he'd held me, the regret in his voice as he'd quietly assured me that he'd taught Creeper Scott a lesson on my behalf. Was this what it was like to have an older brother? That thought caused a strange spike in my headache and I rubbed my forehead. A brother. Why would that make me …?

The sound of screeching and the unmistakable explosion of blown out tires interrupted my musing. The car immediately lurched to the left slamming into a parked car and crumpling the front of ours. Instinctively, I drew my knees up as the car rebounded, spinning around a few times to end up facing the wrong way down the one way street. We skidded to a halt on the right side of the road next to a parked B.M.W..

Looking ahead of me, I could see what had happened. The police had been systematically herding us into an ambush; the pre-laid steel spikes strewn across the road providing the visual proof of that. We'd ended up close to the end of a narrow, one-way cul-de-sac that marked the beginning of the industrial area of the city. There weren't many people down this way except for a few pedestrians who were likely heading to the Park & Ride lot a few blocks over. It started off gradually, but as the severity increased, I put my hands over my ears as a loud hissing sound reverberated in my head, making it almost impossible not to cry out. It felt like pressure was releasing sequentially and at different intensities throughout my consciousness; almost like little dams breaking under strain.

I heard the others in the car moaning, a few stray limbs poking through between the front seats. I looked over at Nicole. Her airbag had deployed and she looked dazed as she clutched the side of her very bruised head. I surveyed some of the damage behind me. Half of Glenn was wedged under the front seat and while Jerry's bottom half lay on top of the parts of Glenn that were still visible, his good arm was protruding next to my face in the front. He was already trying to get himself back into the seat though, so I knew he was doing okay. Meg seemed no worse for wear. She, at least, had managed to put on her seatbelt sometime during this fiasco. She had just begun dragging Jerry off of Glenn when I heard them. Two cruisers pulled up alongside the left of the car and at least six officers approached from the front, guns drawn. They had us surrounded and all I could think was that one wrong move was going to get us all killed.

"Get out of the car!" one of them bellowed at us, "Now! All of you! Get out of the fucking car and get your hands up!"

A few moments passed and I could see that he was getting impatient. I somehow managed to push my mangled door open, half falling half stumbling out of the seat as I heard Nicole do the same. Meg and Jerry followed suit, leaving Glenn sitting up in the backseat where they'd managed to place him.

"I said __ _all_ of you!"

"He's hurt, asshole!" Nicole's shrill voice seem amplified somehow. Trust her to feel the continued need to antagonize a man with a loaded weapon pointed at her head.

"I don't fucking care! Get him out of the car!"

"She's telling the truth!" I tried for a more reasonable tone, "Please! He needs help!"

"He can die for all I care, girl!" the officer sneered, stalking closer. One officer flanked us cautiously on my side, near the B.M.W..

Jerry managed to manhandle Glenn out of the car. He was white as a sheet and barely conscious. Jerry groaned under his weight for a few seconds and then Glenn fell to the ground, bumping his head against the side of the car as he landed.

I yelled his name, instinctively turning to go to him.

"Stay where you are, girl! Get your hands up where I can see them or you're gonna get shot!"

My shoulders and neck were aching but I managed to raise my hands. I glanced anxiously down at Glenn almost missing Meg's intense stare. She looked at me as if she was waiting for something and when she locked eyes with me, it was like looking at a stranger. Jerry cried out as he raised his one good arm, distracting me for the moment and I glanced at him as he struggled to place it behind his head. Nicole stared over at me, then at Meg, looking like she was trying to decide what to do. I'd thought that was pretty clear, personally, but she obviously had other ideas. Not only was she as slow as molasses raising her left arm, but she started to taunt the lead cop as well. He was becoming more and more agitated when repeated calls for her to raise her other arm went unheeded.

I looked between Nicole and the officer. She had a now familiar maniacal, frenetic look in her eyes which suggested that she had no intentions of following any more orders from him. I turned back to stare at the cop and saw that he'd come to the same realization that I had. This was going to be a disaster. With steely determination suddenly emerging in his eyes, I knew exactly what he was intending to do. Nicole pulled the gun from behind her back and aimed at him, dropping down to decrease her surface area as the other officers, caught off guard, scrambled for cover. I was sure my initial instinct was right. I honestly didn't think that the idea of shooting kids sat well with any of them, even if we, well _she_ , was threatening them. My heart tried clamoring out of my chest as I saw the inevitable about to play out. The officer near to me had surreptitiously managed to make his way closer to us, moving slowly out in front of the bimmer. _He_ seemed to have no compunction whatsoever about shooting children, immediately aiming his gun at us. My vision blurred as I watched him and the pounding in my head mirrored the erratic rhythm of my heart. But as he inched closer, the pain changed. Those partially contained, pressure pockets in my consciousness finally burst open all at once. It made me feel like my eardrums were about to explode outwards and it took all the willpower in me not to vomit right there and then. The lead officer in front of us discharged his gun about a second later, the loud bang cutting through the chaos in my head. Time appeared to slow to a crawl and the bullet seemed to stop its flight in mid-air.

I'd seen that happen before, hadn't I? I'd _felt_ that happen before. As if I was part of a first person shooter game, I saw my hand stretch out in front of me towards the cop. It tingled painfully as I felt every synapse in my arm firing. A tremendous concussive force flew out of my palm and fingertips and the officer was lifted into the air and thrown back some twenty feet. He went up and over the other officers who had formed a perimeter near the spikes on the road, landing on the hood of one of their cruisers. Imbued with heightened awareness, I _sensed_ that the gun was about to go off behind me as that second officer, fired to protect his colleague. My other hand drew up behind me, as I half turned towards him, thrusting him away with such force that he slammed into the line of parked cars and flew up and over them onto the sidewalk. For good measure, I reached out for his gun with my mind, watching it disintegrate harmlessly as it flew right over our car to the other side. It was completely gone before it ever hit the asphalt.

I spun around in real time, although the world around me was still operating adagio. I saw the ugly sneer on Nicole's face slowly morph into fear as she realized she'd been fired upon. Seemed she had some sense of self-preservation after all. The bullet was still about 2 feet in front of her and I imagined my hand closing around it, plucking it from the air. It did exactly that. Within a heartbeat, I found the hot metal secured in my tight grip and I dropped it harmlessly to the ground.

I was afraid, but I knew that there was no turning back now. Glenn seemed gravely injured and the last thing I needed in my life, was to go to jail. Winchesters NEVER went to jail; my Dad and my brothers would be so ashamed of me at this moment. My eyes widened. Oh my God! The last vestiges of the fog in my brain lifted and, like seeing my life flash before me, I was flooded with memories. Memories of Sam and Dean from my childhood- that time when we went to the zoo and I got into trouble for wandering off, when I was 3 and my brothers were embarrassed when Dad took me shopping for my new Tinkerbell underwear and how basically the same thing happened 9 years later when I had to buy my first bra. Then more recent history. The constant fighting with Dad and the way I often saw him looking at me, like he didn't know what to do with me anymore, and my estrangement from Sam; he, my oasis in times of despair. I looked at my hands in wonder remembering too, how I'd been developing powers, powers like the ones I'd just used to save Nicole. To save all of us.

Pain lanced through my head again and I knew what I had to do. I had to get us out of here and back to Zeke before we were gunned down in the street. A passing thought occurred to me. He'd always insisted that Meg not get arrested so as not to draw attention; he had a reputation in the community to maintain, after all. Somehow I didn't think that was possible anymore.

The other policemen, though shell shocked from what had just happened, began advancing quickly then, guns drawn and determination on their faces. A few of them fired warning shots and shouted for us to come out or they would open fire en masse. I looked around at the side street. We had to find some way to escape this. The car was totaled and they were coming. My eyes searched frantically and then I saw them. The tracks above us. Of course! We needed to get to the station!

I heard Glenn groaning behind me as Jerry tried lifting him again. Nicole stood there feeling around her own body, I suppose trying to see if she'd gotten shot. Meg shouted at her to get her ass over to our side of the car. Shots rang out as she half skidded, half leaped over the mangled hood, dropping gracelessly onto the ground near my feet. She looked up at me in awe and I hissed down at her to get up and help Jerry. She scrambled on her hands and knees past me and I stepped in front of her. It was time to end this.

It was so instinctual that I didn't even know what I'd done until it was happening. It flowed out of me like a ball of pure energy, rising from the earth below me, through my feet, my body and out of my hands. I screamed as the force of it made me fall back a few steps. I lifted the police car that was blocking the side street- it was a major obstacle to my escape plan and I knew it would cause just the kind of distraction we needed. In an instant, I hurtled it towards the officers in front of us, aiming for their vehicles behind them. They scattered in all directions while I let it drop on one of the cars; the noise of crumpling metal deafening. I ripped a few of the trees out of the sidewalk and threw them haphazardly across the road, though managing to avoid the few pedestrians who'd been caught up in the melee and the cops themselves, who were still scattering to find cover. The cops' standard line formation was now in disarray. Good.

"Get ready to run to Frank Street. Move behind the car!" I hissed at Meg, "We're heading for the train!"

She nodded, an excited smirk on her face. I ignored that for now and picked up the loose soil from where the downed trees had once stood. I threw it into the air above the police. It swirled madly, the rocks and pebbles within it slapping onto the ground, car windows and the officers; basically anything, save us. More importantly, it obscured their visibility and provided the perfect cover for our getaway.

"Go!" I shouted to the others behind me, as I sent the soil cloud far up into the air above their heads.

As I turned to run, I could see a few onlookers filming us with their phones and a few officers talking on their shoulder mics. I grabbed all the devices I could see and broke them apart in midair, following that up by ripping out the dashboard cams from the police cars. The soil cloud was dissipating and I needed to hurry. I wrenched the license plates off the car and crushed them beyond recognition as well, just in case. I knew all this was likely to be pointless but I figured it _might_ slow the authorities down from identifying us too quickly. At the very least, it could give us enough time to get back to Zeke and his army of lawyers. I hoped that Beth was a good attorney because I was going to sing like a canary when the law got ahold of us. As far as I was concerned Jerry, and Nicole especially, could go straight to jail without passing go or collecting any money.

Satisfied that I'd done what I could, I sprinted after the others who were half way down the street. Obviously something had gotten lost in translation because they were quickly moving past the entrance to the train station.

"No!" I shouted after them, frustration quickly overtaking me. We had to get off the street and out of sight. I needn't have worried, though. A van with blacked out windows suddenly turned down the road and headed at break neck speed towards us. The back door slid open. It was Charles, the Masters' butler. He screamed at us to get in, reaching out to help Nicole and Jerry with Glenn. I peered into the driver's seat and saw James, the chauffeur, agitatedly surveying the street around us and fiddling with what seemed to be a police scanner.

By the time I reached them, the others had already piled into the back and Charles reached out and pulled me in. He slid the door closed and then we peeled off back to the main road. I was shocked that we weren't being followed, but in reality, our run to freedom had actually only taken about 5 minutes. We remained eerily quiet as we watched Charles tending to Glenn's wounds. Apparently his injuries weren't as severe as they'd first appeared. Charles dug the shrapnel out of his back and directed Nicole to put pressure on the wound. Miraculously, apart from a likely concussion and blood loss, he seemed to think that Glenn would be okay. Once Glenn was stabilized and he'd started an IV, Charles told us that in another life, he'd been a paramedic.

Silence fell over us again and I looked up to see Meg grinning at me with admiration and genuine happiness, muttering what sounded like the word, 'good', repeated over and over.

My thoughts were in turmoil. I tried to rationalize what had just happened. Okay, maybe I'd been so traumatized in the last few days that I'd actually _forgotten_ my brothers and father, not to mention the fact that I had powers. PTSD, right? But what had made a bunch of fun loving, drug and alcohol soaked rich kids think that armed robbery and grand theft auto made for good summer vacation entertainment? Well, Nicole was certainly capable of _anything -_ but the _others_? Meg? This couldn't have been her idea of a great day out. What was Zeke going to say? I was pretty sure his relaxed approach to parenting was going to take a different tack very soon.

"Where are we going?" I asked quietly. If I didn't try to stay calm, I was going to launch myself at Nicole and her smug face and rip her hair out by the roots.

"Back to the mansion," Charles replied, as he fashioned a better sling to re-secure Jerry's injured arm, "We're going to get you two back to your father, and take the others to some place safe where they can get medical care."

"How did you know where we were?"

"I called them," Meg replied.

My attempt at remaining 'zen' broke down at the sound of her voice. I spun around, the action making me dizzy for a few seconds though I ignored the feeling.

"Meg, what the fuck?" I shouted, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

She just smiled at me with a look I'd never seen from her before. It made me feel very uneasy and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

James barely waited long enough for Meg and me to get out of the van, before he sped out of the driveway. I followed Meg into the media room, determined to get answers from her one way or another. My patience was at an end. We found Zeke watching television on the sofa, a drink in his hand.

"So I hear you two had quite the adventure today," he said, smiling at me, but to Meg he said, "How did it go?"

I looked at Meg, then back at Zeke.

"How do you know already?"

"Charles and James are loyal employees. They'd hardly go to help you make your daring escape and not inform me." His tone was strangely nonchalant as he turned to Meg again, "It would help though, if my daughter would let me in on her plans in advance."

I was still so focused on his previous statement that I ignored that last.

"What do you mean, 'how did it go?' Wait…..wait…..did you plan this?"

"I know you wanted to have final approval, Dad, but our timetable was moved up because of Elkins and I knew she was ready. I _told_ you, didn't I?"

"I appreciate your ingenuity and enthusiasm, child, but I still run things around here," he paused as his eyes speared me, none of the usual warmth in their depths, "Tell me."

"Glenn got knocked out and she wouldn't take the gun….."

It seemed they were both planning on ignoring me in favor of some preexisting, secret double-talk language that I had never been privy to.

"….but," she paused dramatically, "after that, everything was spectacular! Bullets stopped in mid-air, cops were tossed around like rag dolls…you should have seen it! It was so amazing! _She_ was so amazing!"

Her eyes were shining as she grinned at Zeke .

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Why was she saying these things? Had the whole world gone mad?

"Why are you acting like anything that happened today wasn't the fucking end of the world?" I cried, done with whatever game we were playing and trying to make her see sense, "We are in so much trouble, Meg! What the hell is wrong with your friends? Do the words 'multiple felonies' mean anything to you? Someone has to have taken pictures of us or we're going to turn up on some CCTV somewhere but they're going to find us! I hope none of you have ever been in the system, because we've left blood, DNA, fingerprints- _everything_ all over that car! I don't want to be involved in shit like this, Meg. I can't be involved with the cops...!"

"This was a test of sorts," Zeke interrupted my tirade.

My mouth closed with a snap and I looked askance at him. "What...what do you mean?"

He leaned forward and looked at me, his eyes penetrating and intense. "For you. To see how your 'special gifts' were coming along. And I'm pleased with the results….mostly."

"This was a test?" I asked, stunned. "This is so screwed up… a test for what?" I yelled.

"I've been waiting for this," he said. "For your powers to manifest, little one. For you to reach your full potential….."

"How do you know about…what powers?" I stuttered in shock. This was incredible. I didn't understand what was happening. Why were they doing this? I thought I'd been so careful to keep my abilities hidden. How'd they even know what 'powers' were in the first place?

He stood up and came over to me, resting his hands on my shoulders.

"Come on, Aly, I think the time for games has passed, don't you? You're one of us, now. You've always _been_ one of us," he said, triumphantly, a look of pride unmistakable on his face, "And now that you've found your abilities, you can take your rightful place with me."

The hairs stood up on the back of my neck yet again. Zeke looked down at me, his eyes empty and cold, but no less intense. He smiled and an involuntary shiver ran through me. Instinctively, I hugged myself, my heart filled with dread, as I waited for the other shoe to drop.

Then his eyes turned yellow and I realized who he was.

I screamed.


	24. Chapter 24

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: We've had chapter 23 written for quite a while and been anxiously awaiting the time when we could publish it...the wonderfully talented _delacre_ added so much to the chapter and followed it up with this amazing chapter as well! She stepped up to the plate when I was sick with bronchitis and all at the end of the year, and has been working hard on the story! Please let her know in the reviews how much you appreciate all her work- she's an incredible writer!**

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Sam rubbed his tired, sore eyes. After a few moments, he felt composed enough and got out of bed. 10 minutes ago, he'd woken up in a cold sweat, with a disorienting mix of overwhelming emotions-shock, betrayal, loneliness and fear. He couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming about- if it really _had been_ a dream- but that last one, the fear, was still lingering in his consciousness as clearly as the glass of water he was currently pouring for himself.

His first thought was that they were projections from his sister but he'd been reaching out for her from the moment he'd stirred and, like the past weeks, he'd gotten nothing. Nothing. He was hearing that word in relation to a number of things these days; leads on Aly's and on Dean's whereabouts, Bobby and his father's progress with The Colt, his own attempts at… No. He wasn't going to give into this negativity. Not again.

As he was trying to clear his head, his cell phone buzzed. He picked it up from the bedside table and looked at the screen. Running his hand through his hair, he sat on the side of the bed and answered it a moment later.

"Hi Dad... No, I don't have any idea where he is. All my calls have gone straight to voicemail since he left."

Sam really wasn't in the mood for a replay of this conversation. It was the same one he'd been having over and over for the past two days since Dean had taken off for parts unknown. He walked over to the window and moved the curtains back slightly, looking out into the darkness. Sighing, he turned away. He didn't know why he'd expected anything different. Randomly searching for the Impala in that parking lot outside had become his new pastime. He still couldn't believe that his brother had ditched him and chosen to remain A.W.O.L. for this long.

Dean had clearly reverted to his default setting: self-blame mixed with cold detachment. Having placed all of his hopes on the intel from Guthrie only to have it not pan out, he'd gone back to basics, taking the emotional component out of the equation and just working the case. Paradoxically, such focus usually made Dean completely irrational, both in regards to his own safety, and in not knowing when he was crossing the line.

Sam roused himself from his musings to refocus on his father's progress update. Apparently, the hunter grapevine was still a reliable source. Elkins' cabin, or as he could hear Bobby saying in the background, his 'Unabomber Chateau,' had been an out-of-the-way shack in the middle of the aptly named Holy Cross Wilderness. It was located a full day's hike from civilization and had indeed, been razed to the ground. A cursory search of its charred remains and the surrounding area had revealed very little and they'd decided to camp out and resume the hunt at first light. The next day, they'd been all but ready to give up when John had recognized the burned, almost unidentifiable husk of an ornate lamp; an item that would have been very out of place before the fire. That John had found it in a hidden bunker some 75 feet away from the main dwelling within a small recess of a wall secreted away behind a second hidden wall, had clearly been no small feat. Bobby's "I told you so," in relation to John's being the best person for this mission, was smugly unapologetic.

Within the base of the lamp, a concealed metal box held a single key- a locker key with the number 666 engraved on it.

"A little on the nose," John said, when Sam scoffed in disbelief, "But I assume relevant to what we're looking for. We're camping out here another night and then we're going to head back to town. We'll see what the key unlocks then."

"Taking that SatPhone with you was great thinking. You're getting amazing reception."

"Yeah, another of Bobby's bright ideas," John replied, begrudgingly, "And one of these days, I'll let him know just how much I appreciate his constant whining and nagging but until then…"

Sam chuckled, gratified to see that his father was clearly finding some hope in this small success. He only prayed that the morning would bring even better results.

"Okay Sam, we're going to hit the sack so we can move out at dawn. If your brother calls, tell him…," John paused for a second and Sam could hear the worry in his voice, "..tell him to be safe."

"I will, Dad," Sam said quietly, and they both hung up.

Sam knew exactly how his father was feeling. They'd reached a critical point in this game of 'cat and mouse'. It was time to rally together as a family, not to go rogue. John might be fearful for Dean now, but when he finally resurfaced, Sam was pretty sure that John was going to be tearing his errant son a 'new one.'

He thought about going back to sleep but he had a lot of work to do. If things followed along their current trajectory, Bobby and his father would be back soon and he needed to be ready. His knees cracking as he stood, Sam made his way to the bathroom.

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Dean looked down at the ringing phone in his hand and frowned. Call number 50. Seemed that Sam had taken his new role as stalker to the next level. He threw the phone back onto the dash to let it finish charging. At this point, he'd have to buy a spare battery if Sam was going to keep this up. It wasn't that Dean didn't realise that he was being an ass to his family right now, he was just well past caring. Besides, he fully expected to make it up them later; finding Aly would be apology enough.

He'd spent the last two days hunting down demons, _any_ demons. Initially that meant the crossroads variety, the glorified worker bees. Their job was to sign up any and every soul on offer to keep the home fires of Hell burning. That meant they were only too willing to show up whenever they were summoned. He'd managed to kill about five, after torturing them for information that none seemed to have, before word spread about his activities. Now, they'd managed to find some way to avoid his summons and so he'd had to move on and become creative. The mid-tier demons were more complicated to deal with because they had more tricks up their sleeve. Hunting them down also took more precision and, with no one watching your back, was an exceptionally dangerous exercise. His next target, however, just happened to fall into his lap.

At this moment, he was watching a 70ish year old man roughing up an 18ish year old punk midway down the alley next to his antique furniture store. He'd accidentally stumbled across the older man in a nearby diner several hours ago. Dean had stopped for a bite to eat. Killing demons gave him a voracious appetite, even if he had diddly-squat to show for it. Well, there _were_ five less demons in the world and that deserved pie. So, he'd been eating his second slice of lemon meringue pie minding his own business, when he'd heard an argument brewing in a quiet corner of the eatery. He'd turned slightly on the stool, staring at the booth's occupants out of the corner of his eye. The old man had been exceptionally irate at the young woman sitting across from him and was gesturing furiously at her. When he realised that they were attracting attention, he'd calmed down somewhat. It was only 5 minutes later, when Dean was finishing the last of his coffee that the trouble started again. Dean was less covert about watching the drama unfold when he saw something that made his blood turn cold. The man had grabbed the woman's wrist, hard, and his eyes had turned black for a split second before he got up and stormed out, the young woman following 10 minutes later, an embarrassed look on her face. Dean had been following the man ever since. And yeah, he definitely was a demon. If the constant flashing of his black eyes out in the open wasn't enough, he'd been watching him perform quite a few superhuman feats that removed any doubt. From mimicking that young girl's voice as he argued with someone on his cell phone, unlocking the door to the furniture store without touching it, and right now, having his meatsuit heal itself after the 18 year old stabbed him while attempting to rob him, Dean had to wonder whether a demon regulatory body existed for policing its expatriates. Frankly, with the way this one was flaunting his true nature in public like this, killing him would actually be a favor to Hell.

Now the guy was holding this kid up by the throat. 2 feet. In mid-air. There was a convenient street lamp dimly illuminating the entire scene for all and sundry, and Dean shook his head with an incredulous laugh. This demon's laissez-faire attitude was beginning to amuse him. He climbed out of Baby and moved stealthily across the street, gun out. He slipped into the alley, keeping to the shadows and moved behind the demon.

"Hey, loser, put the kid down and turn around."

"Excuse me, Spider...I _can_ call you Spider, I assume?" the demon asked affably to the boy then, spun his head around, "Oh my, Dean Winchester! What a lovely surprise!"

"Yeah, I'm sure it is, asshole," Dean deadpanned, "We've got things to discuss, so let the kid go so the grown-ups can talk."

"Fine. Fine. Spider and I had almost concluded our business anyway. Now, since we're dispensing with the pleasantries right off the bat anyways…"

There was a sickening snick and then 'Spider' fell to the ground, his neck broken. Dean winced then his eyes narrowed.

"Well?" the demon asked, matter-of-factly, "You were in such a hurry before. Speak, Mr. Winchester."

"I..."

"Let me guess, you want to know about the Yellow-Eyed Demon, is that right?"

"You're pretty well informed for a furniture salesman."

"Antiques, you heathen. And of course I am. Word around the circles of Hell is that a few of my brethren have disappeared after unfortunate meetings with you. Naughty, naughty Deano! Breaching the tacit agreement humans have when summoning Crossroads demons is just…unsportsmanlike."

"All right, I'm already bored with this conversation, Dante. You already know what I want, so start talking."

"Sorry, you cretin, I don't negotiate with trigger-happy little shits like you!" The demon's demeanour suddenly turned vicious, "You've killed my brothers and sisters, Winchester, so even if I knew something, I wouldn't tell you. What I will say is that your whole family is well past due for your day of reckoning. It's coming, Winchester. For your father, for your brother and for your little whore sist…"

The full contents of the flask of Holy Water flew into the demon's face. He screamed and clutched at his eyes as Dean cocked his gun.

"Bullets only harm…Oh!" the demon groaned and doubled over in pain, as Dean shot him in the right shoulder.

"Iron rounds covered in rock salt, you bastard. Now, tell me where Azazael is!"

"I'm going to kill you, boy!"

The demon raised his hand, through which Dean fired another round.

"You'd better start talkin', 'cause I can do this all day."

The demon, laughed, steam still coming from its vessel's mutilated face.

"What's so funny, Chuckles?" Dean was very, very pissed off now.

"That you really think you can hurt me."

Dean shot him in the abdomen, the demon wailing in pain again.

"You were saying?"

His voice was tremulous but defiant as he raised his eyes to Dean and grinned, blood bubbling up from his mouth.

"You are a worthless member of your species, Winchester, and there is nothing you can do to me that he won't surpass a million times if I talk to you."

"I don't care.."

"So there really isn't anything left to say, is there?"

With that, the man's mouth opened, the black smoke rushing out before Dean could even register it.

The sound of approaching sirens had him rushing back to the Impala. As he peeled away, he slammed his hands angrily onto the steering wheel.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"The next time you get any light bulb moments, Winchester, count me out!" Bobby shouted, as John whipped the Sierra sharply to the right.

"Weren't you the one that dragged me out here in the first place?" John snarked, as he checked the rear view mirror for the S.U.V. that was chasing them.

"Yeah, but this current situation is all on you!"

Bobby's body slammed into the side of the pickup even though his seatbelt was fitted snugly around him, "Damn it, John, how 'bout you try _not_ hitting _every single pothole!"_

"Thanks for the suggestion, Singer!" John yelled sarcastically as he swung the truck wildly around a blind corner, "Next time we have a bunch of demons hell bent on killing us, I'll be sure to let _you_ drive."

"If you _had,_ we'd have lost them by now!"

John spared an annoyed glance at his friend, "Hey Bobby, anytime you wanna hop out of my truck and call it a day, go right ahead."

Bobby grinned in amusement, holding onto the dash as John clipped the curb. In truth, John was doing a pretty good job of evading the demons that had been chasing them ever since they'd retrieved The Colt. That locker key had only been the start of an all-day treasure hunt that Daniel Elkins had dreamed up to hide the gun. As the previous day had demonstrated, John's intimate knowledge of the inner workings of Elkin's brain before he'd started raving in the streets, had been invaluable to the hunt. So much so, that it seemed someone had ordered their current pursuers to wait for John to do all the heavy lifting, before relieving him of his bounty. He and Bobby had been ambushed as they left the cemetery. Each successive clue that the hunter had left for them had eventually led to the grave of a descendant of a distant relative of Samuel Colt's wife, Elizabeth. At any other time, the exercise might have been considered enjoyable, but with one son M.I.A. and his daughter in the clutches of a supernatural maniac, John's patience for kid's games was at an all-time low. Like now. This game of tag he was playing was really pissing him off. It had to end.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still have any of that vodka left?"

Bobby looked at John, confusion on his face.

"Do you really think this is a good time for happy hour?"

"Not for me to drink, man, for you to make a bomb!"

"You lost me."

"Reach into the bed and grab some oil. I've got some rags in there too."

It finally dawned on him what the oldest Winchester was getting at.

"Forget what I said, Winchester," Bobby groused as he turned around to open the back window, "If we make it through this, just forget my number."

John had been leading the demons away from the more populated areas. Though it was only 9 pm., there weren't many people out and about in the small, sleepy town. However, wild car chases at any time of the day weren't exactly a normal occurrence and John didn't want any more attention than necessary. Especially when they were about to blow something up.

"Are you done yet?" John asked exasperatedly.

"Yeah," Bobby answered with a roll of his eyes, "How do you want to do this?"

"Get ready!"

That was the only warning Bobby got before John pressed hard on the brake, executing a 180 degree turn.

"Damn it, John!" Bobby yelled, holding onto the bottle for dear life.

John drove back towards the S.U.V., grabbed the now-lit bottle and lobbed it through the open, driver-side window. He slammed on the accelerator as the fire from the Molotov cocktail spread quickly throughout the interior of the S.U.V.. It was only a minute or two later, as they tore away from the scene, that they heard the loud explosion.

"That was quick thinking, Winchester."

"They'll send more," John muttered, gravely, "We need to find Aly before it's too late."

Bobby looked over at his friend's worried face.

"We will John, we will."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

By the time John and Bobby made it back to the Travelodge later that morning, the sun was high overhead. Sam had been awake for hours, going over all of the information they'd managed to gather in the last few weeks. There wasn't much of it, of course, but that wasn't going to stop him from analyzing it again, even if he _did_ know it all by heart.

He heard the truck in the lot as it approached and the knock on the door a few moments later. He opened it, greeting the two men expectantly.

"Yes," John answered, as he took in his son's raised eyebrows.

"Thank God!"

Sam let out a huge breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding. His father and Bobby had purposely gone radio silent for the past 12 hours as they went after Elkins' last clue. Sam had been very worried; Bobby and John had suspected that they were being followed, by whom or _what_ they weren't sure, but they'd told Sam to lay off all communication for the next little while. They'd see him soon enough and it would be with The Colt. And they'd been right. He hugged them both in turn, a slight smile on his face. They'd needed this win for a long time.

Bobby called dibs on the bathroom, intending to wash the 'demon out of his hair' while John tossed an egg-sandwich packed with bacon at his son.

"What's this?" Sam wrinkled his nose, at the neatly-wrapped heart-attack maker.

John, was in the process of sitting on the other bed, when he looked up from furrowed brows.

"It's breakfast," he answered, "Everything a growing boy needs to put hair on his chest."

Sam scoffed, "That ship's sailed, Dad. Besides, I'm taller than you."

"You'll never be tall enough to stop being my little boy, kid."

Sam stopped unwrapping the sandwich and looked at his father.

"I know, Dad."

They stared at each other until the unearthly sound made its way out to them. John's face registered alarm and he drew out his gun. Sam waited a beat before a grin spread across his face. He held onto John's arm as the older man was about rush towards the noise.

"Dad!" he chortled, eyes twinkling, "It's Bobby. He's singing!"

"What in the holy hell?"

John's eyes were wide in shock and then he screwed up his face in revulsion.

"I think it's….Oh, God, it is!"

"What?" John had put the revolver on the bed, his face scowling as he unwrapped his own sandwich.

"He's singing 'SexyBack!" Sam snorted, taking a big bite of his own. He would never admit it but the flavor of the bacon exploding on his tongue was pretty close to orgasmic.

Hmmm...he really needed to go out more. Maybe the next time Dean went cruising for girls…

John stopped in the middle of his second bite.

"That's it!" he said, picking up his gun about to head to the bathroom, "I'm gonna put him out of his misery!"

Sam laughed, about to plead Bobby's case when the door burst open and a man in a suit went sprawling onto the carpet at their feet.

"Jesus!" Sam shouted, his sandwich falling to the floor as he quickly stood up.

John pointed his gun at the man as Dean strolled in, determined and angry.

"Dean?" he said, glancing between the man and his son.

"This piece of shit is a demon," Dean answered, slamming the door behind him, "and he knows something about Aly."

Sam sprang into action almost immediately. He went to the bathroom and wrenched open the door, ignoring the angry bellow from Bobby. He gave the older man a short run down of what was happening, and rushed back into the room, closing the door behind him. The water shut off a few moments later.

"What are we doing, Dad?" Sam deferred immediately to John.

"Nothing we can do here," he answered, looking over at Dean who only had eyes for the meatsuit, "We need a quiet, less public place to….talk."

"Like I told your spawn, Daddy Winchester, I don't know anything about anything."

The demon sat up finally and the true extent of the damage became apparent.

Dean had clearly been at him for a while. One of his eyes was swollen shut and he had bruises covering his entire face. His hair, which could have either been platinum blonde or white was now colored pink from the blood. He kept licking his split lip so his teeth were covered in blood also. Most disturbingly, the entire front of his shirt was missing, though a few remnants were stuck into the still bubbling, blistering flesh where Dean had burnt a binding sigil.

The smell made Sam wince. Dean dragged the demon off the ground and tossed him onto the bed just as the bathroom door opened.

"Oookay," Bobby exclaimed, as his eyes surveyed the scene, "This your handiwork, boy?"

Dean didn't answer. He just stared down Bobby who shook his head and said, "Oookay."

"I don't think we're going to be able to move him right now," Sam said, peering through the curtains, "There's some kind of tour group outside. There's no way we're going to be able to get him out of here unseen."

"No matter," the demon cut in, as he made himself comfortable against the headboard. He took the opportunity to survey the room and stopped and stared at Sam, his eyes widening.

"My, my, you _are_ gigantic, aren't you?" he whipped his head over to John, "Were you on steroids when you knocked up your whore?"

"All right," Dean was clearly vexed, "Enough of this!"

The gun went off twice before anyone could stop him. Dean had shot the demon in both knees.

"Dean!" John yelled, as his son aimed again, "Stand down!"

"Don't think so, Dad," Dean said calmly, hitting the right shoulder, "He's fine, aren't you, 'Bob'?"

John looked over at Sam who'd rushed over to the window again. He shook his head at John, signifying that they were still in the clear. He let the curtains fall back into place, and walked right over to Dean and snatched his gun.

"That was an order," Sam said quietly, moving away from his brother's murderous glare.

He'd thought that had been too easy. Dean produced a second Glock almost immediately and pointed it at 'Bob'.

"I'm fucking done with orders right now, Sammy," he glowered coldly at his brother, advancing a single step towards him, menacingly.

"If you ever try to do that again, little brother, I'll take you out."

Sam sucked in a quick breath but Dean's attention was already turned back to the demon.

"Talk," he said simply.

"Wow!" 'Bob' said, using his one good arm to clutch at his bloody shoulder, "Please don't tell me that the Winchester home, is a _broken_ home! Are you always threatening to maim and kill each other? No wonder the little cherub ran away…..whoops! Did I say that out loud?"

'Bob' laughed manically, then started to wheeze and cough as blood bubbled out from his mouth.

"Hey!"

There was loud banging on the door to the room. Everyone looked over in that direction. The demon grinned at them and said in an amused voice, "Oh dear, you're in trouble now."

"Sam!" John gestured to the bathroom with his head, and then Bobby and Sam were hefting 'Bob' over to the bathroom and tossing him into the tub.

"Be quiet!" Sam hissed, shutting the door behind him as he stood, back to the door, his gun pointed at the demon.

"Of course, Little Sammy, your wish is my command. Although, I was _just_ about to talk but if you want me to be quiet now, then I won't open my mouth again….ever."

Sam closed his eyes, shaking his head almost imperceptibly in frustration. He could hear what sounded like an angry neighbour asking why the hell they felt the need to keep the volume on the television that loud at 8 o'clock in the morning. Sam surmised that the man had assumed the gunshots had come from some show on t.v. That was good, actually. He heard Bobby apologizing, which only seemed to make the man angrier.

"Oh Samuel," the demon tutted, shaking his head in mock consternation, "you had such potential. My father wanted you first, you know. You'd.." he smacked his lips, "…tasted his blood when you were just a wee one, though you ever being a wee _anything_ is pretty hard to believe…"

Sam was mesmerized. His gaze was riveted on the demon's loathing filled face.

"He saw something in you all those years ago and he would've taken you if not for John Winchester's blind obsession over that stupid woman. Honestly, what's one more burning bitch, right? So he turned his sights on younger, more malleable prey- the pathetic, little baby whore. She looks just like Mary, I've noticed. Must tie you good ole' boys up in knots just looking at that face every day…."

Sam moved away from the door, his vision narrowed only to the demon's mouth as the foul words kept spilling forth.

"…Have you ever thought that maybe you owe us a debt of gratitude? She's been a whiny little bitch the _entire_ time she's been with us. I mean, I've heard of tween angst before, but really, this one! When she starts talking it's worse than nails on a chalkboard. Other than the fact that the little shit greedily sucked on Azazael's blood like it was her Mama's teat as a baby, I don't really know what purpose she serves. She's useless as far as I've seen, but Azazael doesn't always tell us what he needs sacrificial virgins for. Oh sorry, don't know if she's a virgin anymore but…."

Sam was moving slowly but steadily towards him now. 'Bob' grinned, his voice never faltering, while the sound of an escalating argument in the room outside threatened to drown him out.

"We told her from the beginning that your sister was going to be a wasted effort, but you know how it is. Once a girl gets something in her mind, she won't let it go and she has Azazael's ear. Hard to get him to listen to reason when he thinks the sun shines out of her ass. Don't worry though, _Aly's_ time is coming, if it hasn't already. We have so many intimate, delicious, exquisite ways of making her do any and everything we want her to do…"

'Bob' licked his lips and smiled. "When we're done with her, Sammy, you won't want her back anyways."

Sam hadn't even realized that he'd done it. Vaguely, he heard the door to the motel room close as he finally found himself next to the tub. The demon was staring up at him, the lascivious look on his taunting face practically burning Sam's eyes. He smelled the gunpowder and heard the bathroom door slam into the wall at the same time. He felt someone pull his arm away and remove the gun from his hand. Only then, was he able to refocus on his surroundings. He'd shot the demon in the head from point blank range- the disgusting grin still plastered on his face.

"What did you do?"

Dean's spittle landed on his face as did his fist, twice.

Pain exploded across Sam's temple but it was a feeling he welcomed; it broke through the overwhelming numbness that had temporarily taken hold of him as he listened to every nasty, horrific, revolting thing the demon bastard had said. Then, he'd just reacted without thinking.

He focussed on Dean who his father had just dragged away and pushed onto the far bed. Bobby was calling his name, asking if he was hurt. Sam shook his head slightly. Bobby ignored him, reaching for the back of the boy's neck and pulling his head onto his shoulder.

"It's all right, Sammy," he said, quietly.

Bobby let him go after a moment and dragged him to sit on the bed close by.

"John," he said, "We need to get out of here."

John nodded, leaning his head down to look his eldest in the eyes.

"Dean, I need you to focus right now. We have to leave. No, look at me."

He shook his son's shoulders.

"It's done, do you hear me? Dean!"

Dean gave Sam one more glare, then shook his father off, his tone defiant and angry.

"Yes, I heard you."

He stood up and started grabbing the sheets off the bed. He walked into the bathroom with Bobby and they started gathering up the body, using the bedding and the shower curtain. John looked over at Sam, who seemed better but still dazed. He started cleansing the scene; a skill that every hunter learned as an essential part of the job. Eventually, Sam joined in and they began to hustle around the room, mopping up the blood with peroxide and towels and wiping away possible prints. In about 20 minutes, they'd managed to pack the body in the trunk of the Impala and check out. John thought it wise that Dean ride with him for now and so Bobby drove Baby. Sam remained silent for the first 2 hours of the journey and then they stopped, salting and burning the body in a shallow grave on their way to Little Rock. Dean had taken the opportunity to tell them more about 'Bob.'

He'd overheard the demon in a bar, trying to pick up some girl by regaling her with stories of his vast wealth, his mansion, his two yachts and his Bugatti. Apparently, he worked in a real estate firm in Arkansas and had just come back from a trip to Colorado. Dean was hidden in a dark, secluded corner, listening in and trying not to gag as the sleazeball kept at it. The creep finally bombed 10 minutes later; the girl slapping him in the face and storming out. Dean laughed to himself and ordered another couple of shots of Jack. Another 20 minutes passed. Dean decided to visit the John before heading back to Sam. He'd run out of both demons and excuses not to go home, it seemed. Throwing a $20 note on the counter and lifting his chin to the bartender, he made his way to the restrooms. The guy was hunched over in his booth, whispering animatedly on his phone as Dean passed by. Dean swayed as he pushed through the bathroom door. Okay, maybe he was a little more drunk than he'd thought. He picked a stall, closing the door behind him. He sat on the surprisingly clean seat and held his head in his hands. Yeah, he was going to have to get a room for the night.

The bathroom door swung open and he heard 'sleazy's' voice.

"Yeah, I told you man, the bitch is not going to like this. I haven't been able to reach the others in a few hours. Yeah, I know. I know! Of course it's possible that they got away with the gun! Why do you think I haven't been in a rush to get back there?"

Dean was fairly wasted but not too drunk to miss the obvious coincidence. Gun? Trip from Colorado? Was this loser talking about… He stood up slowly, pulling out his gun and his pocket flask. He knew he still had a whole clip of salted iron ammo and he'd replenished his Holy Water earlier. He'd use the latter first. If this sap was human, he'd apologise and buy the guy a drink, likely sporting a new black eye for his mistake. If he was right, however…?

Dean kept his head down as he slipped out of the cubicle. He didn't even get as far as throwing the holy water. 'Bob' looked up as Dean suddenly appeared, whispering the name 'Winchester' as soon as he saw his face. That was all the proof Dean needed. He tossed the holy water in the demon's face, the burning and screaming immediate. Dean rushed him then, taking one of the iron bullets he quickly liberated from the clip and shoving it down the vessel's throat. He forced him to swallow, the effect instantaneous. 'Bob' keeled over in tremendous pain, and Dean took hold and manhandled him out of the room.

"Hey!" the bartender called after him, as he hustled him to the bar's side entrance, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, man," Dean called back with a grin, "He's a friend of mine. Crashed and burned with that hot chick before and now he's had one too many. Friends don't let friends drive drunk, right?"

The bartender looked appraisingly at Dean, initially skeptical but clearly deciding to let it go. The drunk was a headache waiting to happen, especially if he were to take off by himself and get into an accident later. He waved Dean off and the latter was only too happy to get the hell out of there.

Dean had taken the demon to a remote location and, having learned his lesson by now, wasted no time in burning the sigil into 'Bob's' chest. The demon obviously knew about The Colt and was likely one of the minions that'd been sent to retrieve it. There was no way he was letting _this_ one get away.

The bullet in Bob's gut made him weaker and more vulnerable, and Dean had delighted in taking out months of frustration on the meatsuit in front of him. At first, he hadn't given up anything but, after a few dozen hits all over his torso with a baseball bat, the demon became a little more forthcoming. What a wonderful advantage that demon possession could keep a vessel's body functioning even after tremendous physical damage.

As dawn approached, 'Bob' had clammed up and Dean decided that 4 on 1 were better odds for getting him to spill his guts again. Besides, he was working on fumes. He had to sleep, even if it was just for an hour or two so, he'd sucked it up, thrown 'Bob' in the trunk, and headed back to the Travelodge.

Now, all of it had been for nothing. Two minutes in the bathroom alone with the bastard, and Sam had screwed it all up, giving the demon exactly what he wanted. Oh yeah, his jackass brother had relayed the vile words that the demon had taunted him with- like they provided some kind of justifiable excuse for his poor impulse control. Wasn't Sam one of the people who'd been lecturing their much younger sister about that very problem before she ran off?

Dean had scoffed incredulously when Sam had finished his story. Other than that, he hadn't acknowledged his younger brother again, despite managing to efficiently dig the grave side by side with him. After they'd covering the body, Dean had returned to the Sierra without uttering another word.

John sighed loudly, clapped Sam's shoulder in a gesture of understanding and followed his eldest.

"Idjit," Bobby muttered softly watching them, "Let's go, kid! Look, you gotta give him time, son. He's just like your Dad. Lashes out first, then drowns his guilt in whiskey later. We're finally getting somewhere, and Arkansas _is_ a lead. Okay?"

"Yeah Bobby," Sam replied, unconvincingly.

Bobby looked to the sky and sighed, praying for strength. Being a part of this family was really, _really_ hard work.

About an hour outside of the city, John's phone beeped.

"Here."

John tossed it to Dean so that he could concentrate on the road. They'd driven straight into a huge Arkansas storm and the rain had cut visibility down to about 10 feet.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean hissed, as he read it.

"What is it?"

"It's another one," he answered, grimly.

"Call Bobby and tell him that we're pulling off at the next exit. We'll get a room at the Motel 6."

"Yeah, okay," Dean replied, distracted.

The assholes had sent another text. This time, it just contained a link to a video. Dean growled at the poor reception he was getting, likely due to the storm. The page wouldn't load no matter how many times he refreshed it. He called the other two with _his_ phone to tell them the plan, his eyes glued to his father's screen, waiting. Fortunately, this particular Motel 6 provided free internet. They'd rented a couple of rooms but they all piled into Bobby and Sam's to watch.

Sam copied the link address to his laptop and waited for it load. They all fell silent as the first screen appeared. It was obviously a convenience store from the layout- likely a Gas-N'-Sip looking at the colors on the walls. Dean had eaten enough of their dubiously 'fresh' hot dogs to recognise one anywhere. The camera was pointing out towards the store from behind the register. The blurry image of a young girl appeared on the screen. By the way she was twirling her hair and laughing every second, it was clear she was flirting with the clerk. The shadows of two other people passed by the camera as they headed towards the back of the store. It was impossible to gather any details about them. The video fast forwarded on its own. The clerk had probably left on break, being replaced by an older man who handed the young girl a huge plastic cup. The video suddenly cut to a front view of the counter. Obviously this had been taken with a cellphone. It was choppy and hard to follow, the framing swinging wildly between the clerk, who had just pulled out a shotgun and three other kids who were clearly the perpetrators of an armed robbery. Their anonymous texter had conveniently, yet again, blurred out the faces of everyone but Aly. Dean touched her face on the screen. She looked terrified standing there watching the mayhem unfold before her. The camera suddenly dropped to the floor and the video ended abruptly.

The four men were silent for a full minute as they each digested what they'd seen. Aly's involvement in dangerous activities was escalating and she was entering treacherous territory now; territory with a higher likelihood of getting her killed.

Dean was the first one to speak. He forcibly swung the desk chair around to face Sam, ensuring that he had his brother's full attention.

"Did you see that, Sam?" he demanded angrily, "Did you see what those creatures are doing to our sister? They're going to get her killed! And you? You off the best chance we've had in _months_ to find her!"

Though his soul was burning with shame, Sam didn't dare take his eyes away from his brother's. The lingering pain in his jaw was an easy reminder not to underestimate Dean's volatile state of mind.

"I'll tell you this, little brother. I was willing to overlook your screw-ups from before. Your lies about her getting hurt, whatever the fuck it is you're doing when you squirrel off to talk to Missouri, all of it! But if your killing that demon has cost us our one chance of finding Aly, I'll never forgive you. Do you hear me, Sam? God help you if she dies before we can get to her, because I promise you, I'll put the bullet between your eyes myself!"

Dean Winchester stood up and pushed past all of them, slamming the door behind him as he disappeared into the downpour.

Sam stared after him for a long time, even when Bobby had left to chase after him and John had given up on getting a response from his younger son. They thought that Dean was just angry and that he'd cool down eventually. Sam knew better. He believed every word.


	25. Chapter 25

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: WOW, chapter 25! When I started this fic, I had no clear idea about a story arc or plot... Thank You to _delacre_ for all the ideas, help, and beta-ing, not to mention all the amazing co-writing! And Thank You to everyone who has continued to read this fic and everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed it...we love the reviews! This is another chapter that was written a while back, and _delacre_ has once again worked her magic on it and made it so much more than it was...**

"We've been here a week already and there's nothing!" Dean shouted, his eyes flashing with anger and frustration.

"Dean, calm down," Bobby said placatingly, "We've been over this already. We've got every hunter we know on alert. They're questioning as many demons as they can track down, they're looking into the last years' worth of real estate deals that 'Bob' was a part of, Ash has gone over and dissected that video 50 ways from Sunday, and we've scoured every newspaper, website and police database looking for news about a robbery. Those Gas-N-Sips probably get hit up once every 30 minutes in this country but a bunch of gun-toting teens in an armed robbery would have been splashed across _e_ _verywhere_. We don't even know if that video was real..."

"Of course it was!" Dean replied, becoming annoyed, "I know whoever's been sending us those texts has been really handy with the computer, but I think we'd have to be dealing with the best and brightest of Silicon Valley to fake what we saw!"

"Dean," Sam called softly.

"Oh no," Dean gave a scornful laugh, "Not you. I don't need to hear one more goddamned word from you!"

John got up from the bed and stood directly in front of his son.

"Take a walk!" his tone brooked no argument.

"What? Is he such a pussy all of a sudden that he needs you to defend him from _words_ now?" Dean scoffed with genuine incredulity, "Are _you?_ I don't see _you_ doing anything useful either!"

Dean impulsively shoved his father as he shouted the spiteful words, his anger overwhelming his good sense.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" John's voice had gone soft, his stance becoming intimidating, "Don't you _ever_ put your hands on me again, little boy, I will end you…"

Dean sobered immediately. Later, he'd look back on this as the moment he first agreed that temporary insanity was a legitimate defence. He hunched his shoulders and looked at his feet, unable to maintain eye contact with his father.

But John was giving him no quarter.

"No, you look at me when I'm speaking to you. __ _Now_ , boy!"

"Dad.."

"Be quiet! You've said more than enough. For 7 long days we've had to listen to you bitching and moaning like you're the only one having a rough time with this. Do you think for one minute that the rest of us aren't as worried about your sister as you are? 'Bob' is dead. Sam gave that demon exactly what it deserved. You're my first born, Dean, so I know you like I know myself. Don't think for a second that I don't feel your guilt or pain, because they're mine too. But the way you've been lashing out at your family this week," he paused as tears welled in his eyes, "I've never been as ashamed of you as I am right now."

The two Winchesters stared at each other silently.

Dean opened his mouth to apologise but John cut him off.

"No, think about what I've said. I want you to get out of here and cool off. Go do whatever you have to do to get your head out of your ass and into the game. Go find a bar, or a video arcade or get laid- _whatever!"_

Dean smiled inwardly. Video arcade. His father was a little behind the times but he recognised it for what it was. Even in anger, his father was reaching out to him.

"Yes sir," Dean answered simply, going to move past him

John stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"And Dean? When you come back, be prepared to shake hands with your brother. You don't have to start a prayer circle and sing Kumbaya, but you _will_ find a way to work together for Aly's sake. Do you understand me?"

Dean paused for a moment looking over John's shoulder to Sam's tear filled profile; he had stopped watching the angry exchange some time ago. He looked back at his father.

"Yeah Dad," he answered, contritely.

John nodded and let him go. With one more look at Sam and then Bobby, Dean turned away and left.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

When I woke, I found myself very disoriented. I was in a small, windowless room with only a mattress on the floor. I looked around slowly, my head throbbing with the effort. My eyes honed in on the single metallic door, the key to my freedom. From here it looked solid and unyielding. Fantastic! I couldn't _believe_ I was in this situation again.

I felt it then. The pain in the back of my head. I touched the goose egg gingerly. Either I had fallen or someone had hit me. Now that I was becoming more aware, I realized that my _whole_ body was one big goose egg. There wasn't a single muscle or inch of skin that wasn't aching or bruised. What the hell was goi..? Oh yes, the joys of the day after. This was what the aftermath of a major car accident felt like. What I wouldn't give for some Tylenol and Advil. I took stock again; the mattress I laid on was situated in the corner farthest from the door, so I had a really good vantage point and, I wasn't restrained. At least there was _that,_ right?

Closing my eyes, I tried to recall how I'd gotten here. His yellow eyes. My screaming. It was coming back to me.

Azazel had finally revealed himself. Week after week of worrying about whether I fit in here, getting comfortable at last with this new family and with being myself, the...the assault…"

I sucked in a quick breath as Scott's face appeared in my mind.

"No," I thought to myself, "I can't get bogged down in memories of him. Not now."

I needed to calm down and not react too much in case they were watching me. I didn't want them to know I was awake yet.

I quieted and refocused, casting my mind back to earlier…

When I found Azazel's yellow eyes gazing back at me, I turned to flee up the staircase. If I could just get to that hallway leading to the garage I could make it to a car...

I hadn't gotten very far before Rosa and another of the cooks, Linda, came out of nowhere and grabbed me by the arms. James and Charles brushed passed us then, holding a body bag which they carefully placed on the couch.

"Please, please let me go!" I begged frantically, struggling to get loose. They dragged me back to the demon, just as he threw his head back and thick black smoke rushed out of his mouth. My breath stuck in my throat from shock. What _was_ that? Vaguely I recalled stolen conversations, whispered between my brothers and father about 'demon possession.' Was I seeing the embodiment of that term right before my eyes? It seemed I was. The smoke entered the mouth of the body that James had just barely removed from the bag. The man I knew to be the Yellow Eyed Demon rose from the couch just as 'Zeke's' body fell to the floor.

"It feels _so_ good to be back! You would not _believe_ how hard it is to find a good meatsuit nowadays. Sometimes you have to go through two or three of these zoo animals before you can find one that fits right. I went through a few wealthy ones in over three states before I found good ole Zeke. Lovely close-knit community in this part of Illinois. We were able to settle in and establish ourselves quickly and comfortably while we prepared to carry out the plan."

Zeke was stretching as he spoke, as if he was trying out a new set of limbs- which I suppose he was.

"What…what plan?"

I was terrified, my voice almost inaudible.

He turned and looked at me in surprise, almost like he'd forgotten that I was there.

"Sweetheart," he smiled, "Don't be shy, not with me. The _plan_ to return you to your rightful place beside me, of course. We moved into Zeke's life, his firm, his house, Meg's school- all to have everything set up before we orchestrated your grand homecoming. But when my people told me that you'd left the Winchesters of your own accord, well, let's just say I saw the opportunity for what it was. A chance to bring you into the fold the _right_ way. The way I _should've_ done the first time."

He came closer to me and shooed away Rosa and Linda who left immediately.

He pulled my resisting form to his chest, hugging me too tightly; enough to make me start squirming. He seemed to realize he was hurting me, stepping back and bending to look directly into my eyes while he held me in place by the shoulders.

"I'm sorry, little one, sometimes I don't know my own strength. I'd never want to hurt you again, Aly, you're my special little girl."

"I..I.."

"And where were you trying to run to, you silly child? Your new powers make you more mine than John's, don't they? You know that he hunts 'monsters' like us. If your family came across you as you are now, they'd- what's the word your brother Dean uses- 'Gank' you? You can't go back to them, Aly. You've been happy here and you've settled in so well. I meant what I said when we were together before- I want you with us and now that you know how much you mean to us, we'll never let you go."

"But all this time….all this time you've been lying to me. Meg...Meg…."

Zeke's face turned grave.

"I know, I know," he beckoned his head to James and Charles, pulling me towards the couch.

They quickly took away 'Zeke's' body, Azazel shielding the action from my sight as he sat me down gently. We were alone.

"I apologize for the subterfuge, Aly. First of all, Meg, is my oldest daughter but I have many children and I love them all very much. We wanted to show you what life could be like, being part of a family who actually loves you for who you are and no matter what you do."

"Is that why you didn't care what Meg and I were doing? The drinking and hanging out with college kids and partying 'til all hours..."

"I know how sheltered you've been all your life. The Winchesters have kept you in the dark about everything, haven't they? We talked about that the first time, remember? If I hadn't taken you then, you probably wouldn't even know my name. What I told you when you came to live with us still holds true, Aly- I wanted to show you what having someone _really_ trust in you was like by giving you the freedom to explore the world. And look at you! You're an exceptionally gifted and confident young lady now. You've blossomed since you came to live with us, Aly, you know you have."

I nodded hesitantly and he smiled again.

"And you've come to love living here with us, right? Meg, this house, Rosa, driving, our movie nights, your sister teaching you to shop like a professional; we've given you more in the few months you've been here than the Winchesters have _ever_ given you in your whole life!"

What he was saying was having an effect on me but no matter how he dressed it up, I still couldn't get over the fact that it was all based on lies.

"You tortured me. Said such horrible things...you told me I killed my mother!" I whispered, "How am I supposed to forget that?"

"Alyson," he suddenly became stern and I flinched, involuntarily.

I was both afraid and cowed. This being had hurt me before, seemingly for fun, and he had just confessed to tricking me into wanting to live with him. Yet, I also saw him as a father figure, which I'm sure he knew. Hearing that tone, that blatant disapproval, was painful to me. I fought against the feeling.

"Adults often make mistakes. I've wanted to get to know you for a long time and I mean it when I say that you're my 'special' little girl. I was angry that the Winchesters kept you from me all these years and I took that anger out on you. That was….wrong of me."

He bowed his head and I was shocked to see him looking apologetic.

"Meg talked to me about it after you ….left. Being my oldest, she knows me so well. She could see my frustration and my shame. She came up with the idea of having you come live with us so that we could start over. So that we could show you our best, Aly. We hoped that you'd want us as much as we wanted you. Isn't a family that _chooses_ you better than the one who keeps you out of a sense of duty and obligation?"

"I…I don't.."

"You're a burden, child. That's how they see you. Deep down that's what they've always made you feel, isn't it? I was…..harsh when I expressed this the last time we met but you finally came to that realization for yourself, didn't you? Otherwise you wouldn't have left. Even after our unfortunate encounter, they hid things from you and kept you on the fringes. How could they possibly trust you if they keep making you feel like you're not one of them? When you make mistakes, and you're just 14, my darling, you _will_ make mistakes, they punish you for it. Punish you for not living up to impossible expectations. Like you're the one to blame when really, _t_ _hey_ are."

He was slowly but surely convincing me. I'd known from the moment we'd met that he'd understood me; like he could see right into my soul and could lay bare every thought, every dream, every doubt, every humiliation, every heartbreak I had, and still want me. The closest I'd ever come to having that before was with my relationship with Sam but then, he'd hurt me and I'd felt like that pain had been etched right into my bones forever.

"Why do you keep calling me 'special?'"

"Oh Alyson!"

He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled my head to his chest.

I stiffened in fear at first and he kissed my hair, no doubt trying to comfort me as he felt my obvious trembling.

"The fact that you even need to ask me that tells me so much. You are special just because you're a wonderful little girl. I should know. I've existed for millennia and I have met many children. You are amongst the sweetest and kindest I've known. You have a huge capacity for love; both giving and receiving. When you shared that love with me, I won't lie to you, I was surprised. It has been a _very_ long time since I received a gift so pure."

His soothing voice and the warmth of his words soon had me sinking into his body as I relaxed. I'd seen that with my own eyes, hadn't I? The look of shock when I'd pleaded with him not to go after Scott on my behalf because I wanted to protect him like he was protecting me.

His words brought tears to my eyes. _Now_ , I didn't know _what_ to think. If he hadn't given me all this freedom, I would never have been in the situation with Scott in the first place. But Meg and Zek…Azazel had seemed genuinely upset that I'd been hurt. I _know_ they had!

Unsurprisingly, he knew exactly what I was thinking at that moment.

"I am _so_ sorry about that boy, Aly," he murmured into my ear as he hugged me closer, "Things got completely out of hand. Meg was trying to be the 'cool' older sister and she forgot her responsibilities to both of us. It should never have happened…"

"Did you do something to them? To Scott and his family?"

I recalled what Nicole had said about Scott's disappearance and what Ze…Azazel told me about his family's connection to the Mob. It was almost imperceptible but I felt him flinch. He was quick to recover but it was too late. I tried not to let on, willing my body to remain still and closing my eyes so they would give nothing away.

"No, of course not," he said too matter-of-factly, "Given who and what I am, I have no reason to fear them. I honored your wishes to the best of my ability and went no further than what I told you."

He was dissembling. His words up until now had struck a chord deeply within me and I knew that at least _some_ of them were true, but he was also leaving out _a lot_ of details and, I felt, telling me what he thought I needed to hear. I fought the urge to just let go and give into the safety and blanket of blind acceptance that he was trying to instill in me, but I knew I couldn't. This was a dangerous situation. They had fooled me for so long; I had to keep my wits about me.

We stayed silent for a minute. I'm sure he thought that I was faithfully absorbing his words but really, I was trying to piece this whole thing together. He'd said, 'given who and what I am,' implying that he was all powerful, yet he'd had a company come in and upgrade the entire security system for fear of the Mob? I also noticed that he'd evaded _really_ answering my question as to what he thought was so special about me. I had no doubt that he needed me for something; he'd said as much back when he'd taken me the first time. He'd called me sweet and kind and pure, but thought I'd be okay with him callously killing any number of people, including Zeke and likely his daughter, in order to establish this fake utopia. Plus Meg, if that really was her name, thought it would be great to involve her 14 year old 'sister' in an armed robbery as a test.

Oh God! So much had happened in the past hour that I hadn't even had a chance to let that sink in. Okay, so they knew about my abilities. And he was a demon thousands of years old. He, Meg and likely the rest of these 'people' must have powers too. That's how I had 'earned my rightful place' with him and why my family would consider me a 'monster' like him. Oh God! Did that mean that I had no choice but to become like them? I thought about Roger, the clerk at the Gas-N-Sip and all those people from the outdoor café, not to mention the cops I'd tossed around…..I'd hurt these people with very little hesitation. Was that because of these powers? Did they make me evil?

Another wild thought came to me. Nicole. Nicole had to be one of these creatures too, right? All of a sudden, her behavior over the past weeks made sense. Meg had kept insisting on having her around even though she clearly hated me. And all those sly glances when she thought I wasn't looking….if Azazel had taken over an entire firm and household in this small community, and there was no doubt in my mind that all the staff had to be supernatural as well, wouldn't they have had to infiltrate the lives of those closest to the Masters? That _had_ to include Meg's best friends.

Nicole a demon? Absolutely, but Glenn and Jerry? I scanned my memory. They were usually drunk or high and mostly completely oblivious to what was happening around them. I couldn't imagine they'd make good undercover demon operatives on their best day but, out of the blue, they'd changed personalities. Suddenly, they were mature and empathetic with enough wherewithal to carry out Meg's planned armed robbery? That didn't make sense to me unless maybe they'd been possessed more recently. Did that mean that they were dead now too? There was so much I didn't know and would likely never know. What I _was_ certain about, was that I was surrounded and alone and I couldn't trust anyone.

"Why am I special, Zek..Azaz…?"

"Why don't you call me, Dad, Aly? I thought we'd already established what we meant to each other."

I nodded so my voice wouldn't get me into trouble.

"It's time to get serious, little one. Sit up and look at me."

I shook my head and nuzzled into him closer. If he saw my face now, he'd know exactly what I was thinking.

He chuckled, and all I could hear was the underlying smugness. He probably thought he had me right where he wanted me.

"Okay, child, you can stay where you are for now. When you came to 'visit' me not so long ago, that was not the first time we'd met."

"Really?" I asked genuinely surprised.

"I met you when you were a baby. Even then, I knew that you would…. become one of us and that we would meet again in the future. That our relationship would always become, this. We're very similar, you and I. You have _gifts,_ sweetheart, extra-worldly gifts. Meg has suspected that you've known for a while now. Your feats today weren't exactly a surprise for you, were they? The door of that security room at the mall when she stole the perfume, the music box with Scott…she told me, but I didn't believe her. She decided to be proactive today to prove it to me. I'll admit that I don't quite approve of her methods but I'm glad that we can finally talk about this. I haven't enjoyed lying to you, Aly, but I wanted our relationship to develop slowly and naturally. I didn't want to frighten you, given our recent history. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes….?"

"Yes Dad."

"Good girl."

There it was again. Condescension wrapped in a very thin layer of fake love and concern. Once you knew how to spot it, it became painfully obvious. When I got the time, I would feel free to berate myself for my stupidity but right now, I had to stay alert and play along. So I hugged him harder and tried to make him feel like he'd won. I wondered vaguely if Meg realized that it was unlikely that Azazel had any real feelings for her either. He kept calling her his daughter; I had a feeling he was just telling her what she wanted to hear too.

"I need you to be truthful now, Aly."

I could hear the somberness in his tone, and I knew I needed to be cautious now.

"How long have you known?"

"Uh.."

"Aly," he shook me slightly, "Tell me."

"Not long, honestly. I don't really remember how I got away from Scott. Please, I don't want to talk about.."

I put as much of a whine in my voice as I dared.

Clearly he knew how to pick his battles because he just kissed my head and said, "Okay, Aly. We won't talk about him now. What I really want to know is what you can do. Meg mentioned a few things about today's escapade when you came home. I want to hear it from you."

I gave myself a few seconds to answer, my mind swirling as I tried to decide how much to reveal. It was actually really simple. I would have to tell him about moving objects with my mind but the psychic stuff? There was no way. If I survived the next few minutes, I could try to use it to contact my family. To contact Sam. Sam who was a 'monster' just like me. That was something else I needed to figure out. How I'd forgotten about my family over the past few days? Like _absolutely_ forgotten them- like they didn't even exist. They'd done something to me, I just knew it. These 'people' were capable of anything. 20 minutes ago I'd seen the dead body that proved that.

"I can move things with my mind," I said quietly, "I don't know why but when I thought we were going to go to jail or worse, I…it just happened."

"I understand," he said, "You were protecting your sister and her friends."

I nodded. Dear God, let him believe me, please!

"Is that everything, Aly? Is that all you've done?"

"Yes."

Please God. Please God. Please God. Please Go….

"Are you lying to me, Aly?"

"No..I..I'm not.."

"I think you are, sweetheart."

His armed slackened around me and he forced me to sit up.

"Oh little Aly," he turned my body gently with a flick of his hand so that I was facing him.

I gasped.

"Have you been telling me what you thought I wanted to hear?"

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Suddenly I couldn't talk, the words stuck in my throat and I clutched at my neck.

 _"Breathe,_ Aly," he said, with feigned sympathy, "Children are punished when they lie to their parents. I know you know all about that. Don't all the members of the Winchester family spank you when you don't tell the truth?"

My eyes widened as I slowly slid away from him on the couch.

"Is that what I should do to you, little Aly? Would a burning backside help you to learn to respect your elders?"

He smiled menacingly at me as he flicked his hand again and I was moved right back to his side, my butt plastered to the cushion. A huge wooden hairbrush came flying through the room and fell into my lap.I stared at it in fear.

"Did you think that all you had to do was call me 'Dad' and give me a little hug and everything would be all right? What part of 'millennia old' didn't you understand, you silly little brat? I can practically _smell_ the lies on you! Well? Speak! Do I need to put you over my knee and beat your ass with that hairbrush or will you be a good little girl and tell me what I want to know?"

I no longer felt that choking sensation in my throat but I couldn't say a word. I was so afraid and shaking so hard that the brush fell off my lap onto the floor. Azazel threw his head back and laughed.

"Oh Aly, I do have a soft spot for you, truly. It _did_ warm the cockles of my heart when you first called me 'Dad' and I saw the love in your eyes. I know we've talked about children your age making mistakes but that was a Winchester failing. They don't understand or know you like I do. You've shown me that you are a mature, resourceful, capable young woman and I hold you to a much higher standard. I think I've shown you that. I've been trying to give you the chance to prove me wrong during this conversation but I can see that you need me to remind you not to fall into your old habits."

"No, really, I…."

"I've been trying to treat you with patience and respect, but your willful disobedience and falsehoods are completely unacceptable, young lady, and it's my job as your father to teach you right and wrong."

I stared at him completely terrified.

"Pick it up, Aly. Pick up that hairbrush."

It took me a few tries, as I kept dropping it back on the floor, but finally, I was able to hold it securely and offer it to him.

"I really should blister you," he said, considering me with narrowed eyes, "I've never spanked one of my children before though. With you being human, I'm afraid that I might flay the skin right off your bones. Should we try it out anyway, just to see? If you survive, we might make that our go-to consequence."

He leaned down closer to me.

"Do you remember the last time we were together?"

His hand reached up and tucked my hair behind my ears.

"That table full of all those lovely knives and other more exotic instruments? Would you prefer that we revisit them? Would that be better? I'm sure they've missed your soft skin."

His finger stroked my cheek and I swallowed uneasily.

"Please let me go!" I begged again.

"That's not an option, Alyson. Haven't you been listening? _You. Are. Mine._ You belong to me- not John Winchester, not Sam Winchester, not Dean Winchester! Why do you even want to go back? You're useless to them! You slow them down and hold them back. I've taken you in and made you an important member of my family. As important as Meg! We accept you for all that you are, for all that we're going to help you to be…..!"

My breath was hitching as I listened to him.

Charles entered from the staircase and came to stand in front of us, an urgent look on his face.

Azazel stopped his angry rant and stared me down. I squirmed in my seat, and cast my eyes firmly down to my lap. I could tell when he turned his head, giving Charles his full attention and I glanced at him surreptitiously. They seemed to have some kind of telepathic conversation because, although no words were exchanged, Azazel became angry again. It only lasted for a moment and then he sighed. His facial expression, which had been terrifying in its mania and menace over the last few minutes, changed again and I could tell we were back to 'good cop'.

I looked up at him again and he put his hand on my cheek.

"You're tired and hungry, I'm sure. It's been a long day and you've had quite a shock too. How about you go get cleaned up and get Charles to look at your forehead, hmm? Rosa will make you something to eat and then you can go to bed early. I know you'll want to have some time to think things over and a good night's sleep is just what you need before we have this discussion again in the morning. Charles?"

He looked over at the other man who smiled at me while gently helping me up. I noticed that he didn't let my arm go though. I didn't care. I wanted to wash the day off me and frankly, my nerves needed the break.

We had almost made it to the stairs when I heard, "Alyson!"

Dear God, please.

"Yes, Dad?"

He smiled at that but then his face got hard.

"You forgot your brush. Take that with you so you don't forget how much trouble you're in. Good night."

I moved quickly to retrieve it from the couch and Charles and I disappeared upstairs.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Linda stayed with me when I took a shower in my room and put on fresh clothes. Charles came in after that and cleaned and Steri-stripped the gash over my temple. He was very efficient and completely ignored me when I asked after the fates of Glenn, Jerry and Nicole.

Rosa was a little more compassionate. I had a feeling that any affection she might have for me was likely genuine, not that it mattered. She presented me with my favorite meal, slipped me some Advil and a bottle of water which I placed in the pocket of my hoodie and gave me a cup of coffee to have with my food. I was weary of eating anything from this house but I was ravenous and I didn't know if they'd feed me tomorrow or ever again. I devoured everything on the plate.

After that James, who'd kept an eye on me while I ate, took me back down to the media room and I saw something I'd never seen before. The door to 'Zeke's'…. uh, Azazel's workroom was wide open and James was pulling me towards it. I almost dug my heels into the carpet to stop him. Ever since I'd come to this house, even looking at this door seemed to be off-limits. I had no idea what was in there, but given my current circumstances, I had no interest in finding out. I needn't have worried though. James put a blindfold over my eyes and I was marched forward through the door. I encountered a number of strange smells and funny twists and turns as we got deeper and deeper into the space. I actually lost my balance while James navigated us down a particularly steep staircase, knocking the back of my head onto the edge of a higher step. He'd been actually rather apologetic and had been more careful to direct me when we encountered several others. We were very far below ground; the air was heavy and dank and smelled like the earth or overturned soil. Of course, he could have been spinning me round and round in circles for all I knew. I felt my heart sink lower and lower with every step. Trying to escape from this place on my own was going to be impossible. I was going to be at Azazel's mercy until he killed me or I gave him what he wanted.

I couldn't even count on my brothers and father. They'd likely given up on me like I'd given up on them. I'd acted like the worst brat in the world and had walked out on the only people who had ever truly loved me without so much as leaving a note behind. Maybe the demon was right. After everything I'd done these past few months and especially today, maybe I really _was_ a monster. I couldn't even rely on my mind link to Sam to give me hope. Given the fact that I knew with almost absolute certainty that these people had been playing me this whole time and messing with my mind- forgetting your family entirely for no reason seemed like the best example of that- I couldn't be sure if anything I'd experienced psychically was real. Maybe my family had forgotten about me too. Maybe they _did_ think they were better off and I'd given them the perfect excuse not to come looking.

I swore at myself for letting despair get the better of me. I was _Alyson Fucking_ _Winchester_ and I was going to act like it. I had to get through to Sam before Azazel forced any more information out of me. A wave of embarrassment hit me as I remembered the brush that James had made me carry.

"You'll never get the chance to use it, you bastard!" I thought to myself, "My family's going to come for me!"

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I sighed quietly and tried not to move any more than I already had. Did remembering how I'd gotten knocked on the head mean I didn't have a concussion? I wasn't sure but it was possibly a few hours since James had finally taken the blindfold off after bidding me to lie down on this mattress on the floor in the darkness. Then he'd left me here, slamming the door behind him. I'd had every intention of trying to reach out to Sam but I must have fallen asleep. They might have put something in the food, but I suspected that the terrifying events of the past day or so had been enough to exhaust me. Frankly, I felt just as tired now. I didn't know if it was already morning but the thought terrified me. It meant having a fresh, new 24hrs to face Azazel and worse, maybe never having any alone time again. I needed to act and I needed to do it now. But having to lie here and pretend to be asleep, especially with my muscles aching made me weary and, quite against my will, I fell into a fitful sleep again.


	26. Chapter 26

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've been wrangling chronic illnesses and sick children, so once again _delacre_ has worked her magic and written an amazing chapter! **

CONTENT WARNING: Violence, implied torture.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Was I asleep?

I suppose if you're able to ask yourself that question, the answer should actually be obvious, right?

Hmmm? I remembered this feeling. Lucid dreaming… although, not quite. I felt like…it was like I was desperately climbing up through a very narrow hole, deep in the earth, moving through something thick like oil or molasses which was trying to hold me down. I'd never experienced anything like this during any of the other times I'd made a psychic connection with Sam. I wasn't sure what it meant but at this point I didn't really have many options.

I sighed in my sleep, trying to relax. I reached for Sam in my mind, the way I'd done before. I could feel my consciousness moving, trying to find his through space and time. After a few moments the sensation just faded to nothing. I felt…nothing. I tried again. This time, it seemed like only a split second before the energy fizzled out again. That feeling of being dragged back down the hole lessened a bit, which puzzled me. I tried again and again and with each attempt, the time to failure shortened and I made more and more headway out of the ground.

Despair threatened to overtake all reason. Dear God, this had to work! I had no other back up plan save feigned ignorance and that hadn't gone so well. I _had_ to do this because I knew, deep in my soul, I wouldn't have the strength to survive this for very long…not a second time. Not when Azazael had spent months learning all of my strengths and weaknesses, using them to mold me into the perfect puppet. There was no way to hide anything from him. Like he'd said, he was thousands of years old and I'd had life for 14 years and these powers for 2 minutes. The longer I held out, the less patient and angrier he would become and though I had no doubt that the overall outcome of my defiance would be the same, it was the journey I feared most.

I felt tears on my face, even in my sleep. That wasn't good. Physical sensations while I was lucid dreaming usually portended my waking. Like I needed any more complications. Okay. Settle, Aly. I moved further up the hole again and this time I could actually see the light above me. It only took a short while after that to figure out what was happening. It was symbolic- moving towards the light meant that someone was trying to wake me up!

No no no no no no no no! Panic. Pure unadulterated panic. I was starting to feel my sore muscles, and the pain in my temple. I could almost feel warmth like sunlight coming from the top of the hole and I swore I could hear voices outside myself now.

Was that someone calling my name?

It was! Oh God!

I had to stop them. I might never get the chance to do this again. I had to get to Sam!

Calm down, you idiot! You're helping them wake you!

Someone was shaking my shoul…

Concentrate!

It wasn't working! It wasn't….

Then suddenly it just happened. The energy burst from my mind like lightning. I felt every synapse, every neuron firing and a jumble of images and sensations tumbled out of me so fast that _I_ didn't even know what they were. I only caught snippets; fragments of memories beyond my grasp. I tried to stem the tide, to bring some kind of order to them so that I could leave a clear path for Sam but I had reached the top of the hole and the pain in my temple was fit to burst.

My eyes opened and I could see the concerned face of Linda right above me.

"Are you all right, Alyson?"

I turned away from her, tears in my eyes.

"Get away from me," I whispered.

She didn't move fast enough.

"Get away from me, demon! Get out of my face!"

"Woah! Someone's feisty this morning!"

I recognised James' laugh as Linda, disconcerted, got up off her knees and stood up.

"Fuck you!"

"Alyson, calm down," James sobered, his voice gentler, "Don't get yourself worked up, okay? We're supposed to tell Azazel if you give us any trouble. You don't want that, do you?"

I refused to look at either of them. My mind was still stuck on my failure and what that meant for my survival or lack thereof.

"Are you in pain, Alyson?" Linda asked, trying to change the subject.

Just alluding to it made me wince and then groan. Wow, this was so much worse than last night!

"Yes," I whimpered, "Please. Please help me!"

"You go get her some pills, Lin. I'll watch her."

Linda went off while James filled me in on the day's itinerary. I was getting pain killers with breakfast and after that, I was going to spend the day with Azazel. I would be showing him all of the powers I'd developed in the past few months. _All_ of them, including the ones that I refused to speak about.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Alyson," he said, clearly trying to impart some wisdom upon me if the intensity of his stare was anything to go by, "I like you a lot, we all like you a lot. You're a good kid but you're being really stupid. You can't win here. No one knows where you are and hell, I doubt they're looking for you…"

"What about yesterday?" I asked, trying not to let his words get to me. I really didn't need him voicing all my fears.

"What do you mean?"

"How many people saw us yesterday? We were all over downtown with police cars chasing us. We smashed up that café…there's no way that my family won't see all the news reports, and the surveillance footage or the cellpho….what?"

James was shaking his head vigorously in denial.

"No kid," he said apologetically, "That won't be a problem. We took care of it."

"How?" I demanded, desperate to make him see that I was right, "You're lying! You can't erase the memories of all those people who saw us. You can't collect all the phones, video cam… Why do you keep shaking your head?"

"Aly," James smiled indulgently at me, like he was talking to a 5 year old.

I wanted to claw that look right off his face

"It'd take too long to explain it to you."

"You're a liar!"

James closed his mouth and smiled again. Linda came in then and put some Advil in my hands with a glass of water.

"Rosa's bringing you a sandwich in a few minutes. Do you need to use the bathroom?"

I nodded my head, and she reached down with her hand and helped to pull me up. I followed her out of the room, glaring at James as I passed by. 30 minutes later, I was escorted into another room. Azazel stood in the middle of it and he turned around when he heard me enter.

"Good morning, Aly," he grinned at me, his yellow eyes bright and malevolent, "Did you had a good breakfast? And perhaps, a change of heart to go with it? I hope so because we have a lot of ground to cover."

I stared up at him, tears already forming in my eyes. I knew this room. It was just like where he'd kept me and tortured me the first time I'd been taken.

"Ah, there it is. You know, I had this whole dungeon made for you, but this room, _this_ was recreated because I thought being somewhere familiar might help you make the right choices today. I don't know, maybe you just bring out the nostalgia in me. Come."

He held his arm out to me. I took a step back and hit a solid body. I looked up. Charles was staring down at me, with his eyebrows raised. I swallowed and looked back to Azazel who was clearly amused.

I swallowed again and moved slowly towards him. He took my hand and pulled me deeper into the room.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Sam was sitting in a booth in the local diner with the three other members of Team Winchester. At least that was what Ash had taken to calling them. Sam had been after him, _yet again_ , to use reconstruction software on all the videos they'd been sent. His hope was that Ash would be able to reverse engineer the clips, removing all the fancy alterations, so that they could identify any of the other people in the videos. Maybe they'd be able to track Aly that way. That had been several hours ago and so far, nothing.

Last night had been a disaster. The Winchesters had had intensely painful arguments before but yesterday had been a first. Even over these past months, with all the accusations that had passed back and forth between them, Sam had never been so sure in his life that Dean would have had no hesitation in killing him should Aly… He wasn't even going to think it.

Sam sighed as he took another sip of his coffee, his eyes darting furtively between the others. Apart from when they'd ordered, no one had said a single word and they were definitely avoiding all eye contact. He sighed again. At this point he wasn't sure that even when they got Aly back, the damage could be repaired. Yeah, 'Team Winchester' was a misnomer if he'd ever heard one.

Dean ordered his second slice of pie- his petulance seemingly daring anyone to argue with the fact that, at only 7:30 in the morning, it was a tad early for apple pie a la mode. When another few minutes had passed and watching Dean tear into the food was becoming an exercise in trying not to hurl, Sam said he was going to the restroom.

He stood up, his head spinning for a moment. He paused, resting his hand down on the table to help him keep his balance. John looked up at him.

"You okay, Sam?"

"Yeah, got up too fast" he said, dismissively.

He moved off again, the feeling returning a 100-fold. Sam stumbled, almost falling flat on his face. He felt a hand on his arm, steadying him on his feet. He turned around to see Dean staring at him, a look of concern warring directly with nonchalance all over his face.

"Forget how to walk, little brother?" he said, with no heat.

Sam paused, trying to work out a good response. This was the most civil thing that Dean had said to anyone since he'd come back. Sam opened his mouth to offer what he thought was witty retort when he felt a pain rip through his mind. He cried out in agony, falling to his knees as he clutched his head.

His father and Bobby rushed to his side, hauling him to his feet.

"Get me back to the motel!" he hissed, "Oh God!"

He was hustled out of the diner as Bobby quickly settled the bill. John managed to wrestle his son into the Impala as Dean slid into the car, insisting that he drive. It hadn't stopped raining since they'd hit Arkansas and the temperature had remained in the 60s. Sam leaned his head against the cool glass. He wasn't sure what was happening but if it didn't stop soon, he was sure his brain was going to explode.

Dean glanced at Sam again and his eyes widened. He hadn't been able to get an intelligible word out of his brother for a few minutes but he knew that whatever was going on was getting worse. Besides, Sam looked like he was about to throw up and there was no way he was going to let that happen to Baby. He pressed down on the accelerator. A few minutes later, he was parking in front of the Motel 6 and rushing to the other side of the car. The Sierra pulled up a few seconds later, and his father rushed to his side. Between the two of them they managed to wrangle Sam out of the car and into the room.

"Here, Sam," John said, directing his son onto the bed closest to the door, "Bobby, go get him some water."

John sat on the side of the bed, watching as Sam hauled himself up to sit with his back against the headboard.

"What's going on, Sam?' he asked

"I..my head. It feels like somethings drilling into my brain. My mind...it's...is tearing open. I don't…"

Sam stopped speaking midsentence, his eyes at first widening seemingly in fear and then becoming blank and lifeless.

"Sam!" John shouted, shaking his son's shoulders, "I don't think he's breathing!"

Bobby came forward then, pushing Dean, who was standing on the other side of the bed, out of the way. He checked Sam's pulse and stuck his hand under his nose.

"No John," he said, "He's alive. Stop shaking him!"

He slapped away John's hands.

"Do you think he's having a stroke?" Dean asked in a panic, "Should we get him to a hospital?"

The three quickly discussed the pros and cons of that suggestion versus calling an ambulance when Sam sucked in a huge gasp of air.

"Oh my God," he panted, color returning to his face even as he continued to hyperventilate.

"Slow it down, son," Bobby said, calmly, "Come on, Sam, big deep breaths, that's it."

When Sam had finally managed to get himself under control, he grabbed for the glass of water that Bobby held out to him, sucking it down greedily. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked up at the others, taking in each of their worried faces.

"What was that, Sam?" Dean was the first to ask.

"I…I think it was Aly?"

"What?" Dean exclaimed, "Did she say something? Did she show you where she was? Is she.."

"Dean!" John spun to glare at his son, "Let him talk!"

"Okay, okay!"

Dean was barely able to keep still as he waited for Sam to continue.

"Go on, Sam."

Sam nodded, pausing for second. He wasn't sure if he knew how describe what had just happened.

"It was like something was ripping my mind open from the inside out. I couldn't tell what was happening at first. There was just so much pain that I couldn't focus but then I felt her energy and I just knew that Aly was trying to connect with me. But it was different. There was so much anguish and desperation and terror; it took over my whole body and I couldn't move and I couldn't speak. I felt like I was trapped in my own head. Kinda like those people…You know? Those people who everyone thinks are in a coma but really they…"

"Locked in!" offered Dean, frowning indignantly when they all stopped and stared at him in shock, "What? I read!"

"Uh…., yeah, locked in," Sam's eyebrows were still raised as he continued. "I was getting overwhelmed by those emotions- I mean, I felt like I could actually die when these images started flashing in my mind- it was like being forced to watch a slideshow of someone else's' memories in my head. But it all went by so fast, I couldn't really make out much because it was so random and so splintered that it didn't really make sense…."

"Damn it!" John slammed his hand down onto the side table in frustration, "Every time we get somewhere.."

"Dad, wait!" Sam cut in, "I'm trying to tell you. Most of the images were too confusing to distinguish but some kept repeating over and over, like Aly was trying to burn them into my subconscious. She kept showing me one kid in particular. He's about 16, 5' 11, has brown hair and brown eyes. She just met him this summer and wherever he is, we'll find her."

Bobby looked at Sam incredulously, "Maybe next time lead with that."

"Touché," Sam said, laying his head back and closing his eyes briefly.

"So who is he?" John asked.

"Well, that's the problem. I know they're in Illinois but I don't know the kid's name. "

The other three considered this new information.

"We can work with this," Dean suddenly said, breaking the silence after a minute. "I have a plan."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I was sweating and breathless even though I was standing completely still. It was like the strangest, worst P.E. class on the Supernatural High syllabus. I was standing in the middle of the room having random objects thrown at me while being screamed at by black-eyed demons. The idea was that I was supposed to be redirecting the projectiles before they hit me in the face. Let's just say that all involved were extremely frustrated. My 'teachers' had all but given up; one named Allan kept shouting right in my face that even the lowest level of newborn, gutter-trash type demon could use their telekinesis at will.

"We know what you did to those cops, Alyson! You remember that, girl? It was less than _48 hours_ ago! You stopped bullets in mid-air and now you can't stop a ping pong ball from hitting you on the forehead?"

"I swear I'm trying!" I shouted, just as aggravated as he was, "Don't you think I want to get out of this room. I'm hot, I'm tired and I'm thirsty and I want you to _get off my back!_ So no, I'm not faking, _I can't do it_!

"Oh poor, little baby Winchester! You're hot and thirsty? Do you think I give a shit if you're thirsty? Do I need to shoot at you? Will that make you cooperate?"

"No, please," I begged, afraid of his escalating anger. I had gotten the impression that Azazel was a fickle sort of sociopath. I might have been a boon yesterday, but an inconvenience today.

"Then do what I tell you and don't make me ask you again. If I have to, I may start using some of this bigger shit...," Allan continued to berate me, his hand sweeping over concrete blocks and paint cans that he had yet to launch at me, "…and let you see what a fractured jaw feels like. Maybe _then_ we can continue this without all the whining."

Allan stomped away to stand behind me.

"Now, let's start again."

I couldn't help but start sobbing when the tennis ball came at me and hit me in the right arm. I dropped to my knees and hunched in on myself while the other balls launched past me. This was hopeless and no matter what this demon thought, I _was_ trying my best but I just couldn't do it. I had no idea why. I'd feared for my life when I faced those cops and I was damn sure fearing for it now too, so that wasn't it. I was just so tired. We'd been at this for hours already and it was clear that he had no intentions of stopping.

I knew they were planning on testing me on a number of the abilities that demons possessed inherently. According to Allan, since I didn't seem to know anything about anything, we were going to have to do this the hard way- that meant long hours of relentless tests starting with the one gift we all knew that I had- telekinesis. Given the power and spectacle of my recent display, he'd expected that we would have been well past this point by now. Hence, the frustration on both our parts.

He let out an overexaggerated sigh of annoyance and opened the door to the room, shouting for someone named Julie. I turned slightly to see what he was doing, my breath hitching. He spoke softly to her for a few seconds and then she came inside and helped me off the floor.

"Come on, Alyson," she said, brightly her eyes flashing briefly to black and then back to brown, "Let's get you something to eat and I'll bet you have to use the bathroom, huh?"

"Uh yeah," I replied uncertainly, wondering what had caused this turnaround.

She led me gently from the room.

"Never mind, Allan," she whispered conspiratorially, "He's been promoted recently. Some of our…brethren never came back from an assignment in Colorado and he's moved up the food chain. Wants to look good for the boss, you know? Seems to forget that you're a 14 year old human not one of us, not really."

"What?"

She just smiled and kept leading me to the restroom. I absorbed this information, not knowing if it could be of some use to me later. We walked in silence, my shooting glances at her out of the corner of my eye. I had no idea why she was pretending to be nice to me but as long as I got something out of it, I was happy to play along.

I only had a 30 minute break, but it was enough for me to refocus and calm down. I had to protect my secret. I wasn't sure if I'd managed to connect with Sam earlier but, given that I was still alive, I hoped that I might get another chance tonight.

Despite what he'd threatened, Allan continued to use pretty innocuous objects. I'd have a few bruises when it was over, but that was it. We were a few hours along when the door opened again. I knew who'd entered by the look of panic in Allan's eyes. I turned around to see Azazel's yellow eyes boring into mine as he came towards me, a few other of his minions tagging along behind him.

"Hello, Aly," he smiled at me, "How's my little girl doing today?"

He'd really directed the question at Allan though he continued looking at me.

"Uh….well, Sir…," Allan stuttered, the attempted future lie written all over him.

"Bet you can smell _that_ one on him, huh, Yellow Eyes," I thought to myself, while keeping my face completely neutral.

Azazel walked towards Allan, his demeanor casual though I was pretty sure we all through that.

"Really?" he asked, circling around Allan as he surveyed the room, "You've been in here for 10 hrs and you haven't progressed past Nerf balls and Frisbees? I realise what time of year it is, Allan, but I was hoping for something more substantial than summer toys."

He spun to look at me.

"Is Aly not being cooperative?"

"Uh, no Sir, she says she's trying but she hasn't been able to demonstrate her powers at all. You told us not to hurt her, so I didn't want…."

Azazel was about to say something scathing, if the look on his face was anything to go by, but just then, James entered the room and walked to his side, whispering something I didn't catch. I'd thought that I'd seem him upset before. Apparently not. He spun around quickly and knocked Allan's head clean off his body, a load roar of anger escaping from him as he did so.

I shrieked in terror as I stared at the blood spurting onto the wall from the felled body. I knew that I should be quiet, but I couldn't help it. My family had never let me be exposed to such horrors; I had no foundation to cope with this. He was next to me in a flash, his hand gripping my jaw so tightly that I couldn't cry anymore.

"Don't think I don't know that you're taking advantage of my generosity, little girl! I've played the loving father and the gracious host but you insist on being an ungrateful child. That's going to change very quickly if I don't see some improvement in your attitude immediately. Now, I have some business to attend to and I think you need a time-out. You need to re-evaluate how you're going to change your behavior or face the consequences!"

He looked to James and said, "Take Aly back to her new room so she can have some time to think over what I've said. Make sure she's uncomfortable."

To me, "I'll be back to oversee your efforts very soon, Alyson. I would take this time to develop some self-preservation and common sense."

"Daniel," he looked at the demon who'd remained closest to the door, "get someone to clean that mess up and get me Meg. Tell her I want to see her, _now!_

With that he swept out of the room, leaving me staring after him, unable to move my jaw for the pain. James took me firmly by the arm and led me to my room i.e. my cell. He removed the mattress and took my hoodie, which still held the almost depleted water bottle. Then, leaving me on the floor, he proceeded to tie me up and put a gag in my mouth. I had no idea why. It wasn't like any of these creatures was going to answer any of my screams for help or try to engage me in delightful conversation while I was a prisoner in their dungeon.

James slammed the door behind him and immediately, I tried loosening my bonds, straining at them and bruising my wrists in the process. Then I tried removing them psychically, but I couldn't stop shaking and reliving Allan's demise long enough to concentrate. I needed to take every opportunity to try to contact Sam so I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep. It was impossible. I was trying to calm myself when I heard the screaming. Were they torturing someone else? Oh God! It was probably only 15 minutes but it seemed like forever as the crying and shrieking continued. I wished my hands were free so I could plug my ears. I had a tremendous sense of déjà vu, having been through the same the first time these things had taken me away from my family. Dear God, I needed my father and my brothers!

I was sobbing again. I really needed to stop. Why couldn't I _stop?_ I continued berating myself when I realised something had changed. The other person's bawling had stopped. Had they killed them? I kept my eyes closed against any more reality and retreated into my head. I began singing the last song I'd had to learn for the County Choir auditions; Mrs. Brown's and the other students' happy faces floating into my mind's eye. It felt like a lifetime ago. I wouldn't be able to go back to that innocence. Never again.

I'd almost had enough time to settle myself when the door to my cell burst open and a young woman in her early 20s with short blonde hair and angry brown eyes burst into the room. Her eyes flashing dangerously, she dragged me right up onto my feet with one hand, ripping the gag out of my mouth with the other.

"Rise and shine, Rook!" she said angrily, shaking me a little.

I looked at her in surprise, "Who are you?"

"What?" she taunted maliciously, "One new meatsuit and suddenly you don't know your sister?"

"Meg?" I asked, surprised that she was so much older. I immediately felt foolish. Of course it was Meg. Did I really think that 16 year old demons who spent their days doing high school English or Saturday detention, existed?

"In the flesh! Whoops! Was that a little too on the nose?"

I closed my teary eyes and shook my head. It had taken a lot for me to trust someone to replace my brothers, even if I'd left hating them. She was painful to look at even in this new body because I could still see the 'Meg' in her eyes.

"Why Meg? I love..loved you. Why would you do this to me?"

Meg burst out laughing. As in, an all-out belly laugh. I frowned, hurt to the core.

It took her a full minute to calm down, wiping her eyes when she'd settled.

"Oh my goodness, Alyson, you really are so innocent. I don't care about you, human. Not even a little bit," she said matter-of-factly, "And the sad thing is, fooling you wasn't even all that hard. I mean honestly, how do they even let you use the name Winchester? No wonder they kept you like a sheltered little princess. Frankly, you should be down on your knees thanking us for taking you in when we did. You wouldn't have lasted 24 hours on your own."

"Shut up, bitch!" I sneered.

I decided that I wasn't going to give her anymore of myself. Maybe if she thought that her words weren't affecting me anymore, she would stop stabbing me through the heart I'd surrendered to her and Zeke weeks ago. I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been. She was right. I'd been foolish enough to trust the first few people who'd been nice to me out on the road and then to go home with them.

I could tell that she knew I was putting up a brave front; she patted my head like I was a dog. I yanked it away and glared at her.

"Did you just come in here because to gloat, Meg? That seems a little pathetic for you. Maybe I've rubbed off on you more than you've rubbed off on me"

Well, it seemed that she could dish it out but couldn't take it, if the slap across my right cheek was anything to go by.

"Listen to me, kid," she snarled maliciously, "you have no idea how easy you were to break. Running into you at that rest-stop? Planned. Dazzling you with the dinners and the clothes and the gifts? Planned. And really you should thank us for that too 'cause your taste really sucks! Setting you up to fight with Nicole so that I'd stick up for you and you'd do that hero-worshipping thing you do? Planned. Although I have to say, it didn't take her long to really start hating you. We used to talk behind your back all the time that we should be getting paid to be nice to you because you were _so_ not worth it."

I started to hyperventilate a bit. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I was a complete moron! Azazel had said that they'd planned on taking me anyways, even if I hadn't run off. But the precision and the depths to which they'd gone to deceive me? I'd never experienced such depravity. Well, yeah I had. The first time these same creatures had taken me.

"So the drinking and the cigare…"

"Well, you were boring, so we thought, maybe if you loosened up, it would make being around you more tolerable but mostly it was because…, well you don't need to know everything and this isn't why I came in here."

"Really?' I scoffed, "Right now this is like a scene from Mean Girls and frankly, even Nicole is better at it than you."

My head reared back to the right this time as she slapped me again.

"First off, her name's not really 'Nicole', it's Mia. And you're right, there's no point in telling you all the ways we owned you, baby loser. I came in here to bust your ass, since I can't have your Daddy right now."

"What?"

"Because of John Winchester, my father is….less than happy with me."

"Was that because you planned an armed robbery without clearing it with him first 'cause I could see….,"

She slapped me again and I shut up. Maybe, I'd let her finish.

"It was my job to stop your father and that moron, Billy…"

"Bobby."

"Whatever! And stop interrupting me! It was my job to plan that operation and I did! It was perfect and then your stupid daddy and _Bobby_ , killed all my lackeys…"

I couldn't help it. I snorted trying not to laugh. The ego! I didn't know why I was antagonising her but every time she mentioned my family, she made me angry. More at myself than her. _I'd_ put us in this situation. If anything happened to them it would be my fault and I wasn't sure I'd be able to live with that.

"Leave me alone, Meg," I said quietly, turning away from her. I wasn't going to play this game anymore.

"No, I don't think so, little Aly. I want my pound of flesh..."

"What are you…?"

"Azazel punished me for failing to stop John Winchester and now I'm gonna take it outta your hide!"

I didn't even get a chance to plead for myself. She punched me in the face, hard; the back of my head knocking into the wall she had me pressed against. I saw stars for a few seconds, my eye starting to swell.

"Oh my," she laughed out loud, "I've been repressing my powers for so long, I seemed to have forgotten that I am, indeed, hell spawn, little Winchester. Getting physical with you is just so….human."

She brought her face closer to mine and her eyes turned black as coal as she said, "And I'm __ _so not human."_

I don't know what she did, but I fell to my knees in pain as my insides burned and seemed to twist around in knots. I'd never known such agony and I instantly wanted to die, just to make it stop.

She laughed hysterically, stopping my torture completely before twisting her hand in the air and starting it again, this time with the intensity increased 20-fold. I screamed again, all out bawling and begging her to stop, my limbs rigid yet contorting at unnatural angles.

And then everything stopped again. I kept begging though, knowing that I was giving her exactly what she wanted but unable to stop myself. I braced waiting for the agony to repeat again but then someone was lifting me into their arms and carrying me out of the room.

I looked up to see James' face peering down angrily at me and then everything faded to black.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I came to in my room. My 'white with little periwinkle blue flowers' room. I started to sit up and was surprised by how easy it was. I looked around. Charles was sitting at the end of my bed staring at me. Nope, not at all creepy.

"Good, you're finally awake."

"Uh…yeah. What happened?"

He got up and started checking me over, asking me to follow his fingers with my eyes. I batted away his hands when he began feeling my forehead with the back of his hand.

He smiled down at me with amusement.

"Yeah, you really are 14, aren't you?"

I glared at him and then sniffed the air. It was one of Rosa's hamburgers. I looked past him at a tray that was sitting on my vanity table and looked up at him hopefully.

"Well, go on if you're feeling so great."

Gingerly, I made my way off the bed and kept him in my sights as I began inhaling the food. The burger and fries were lukewarm, but I didn't care. While I sipped the last of my Pepsi, Charles filled me in on the past two hours that I'd been out.

Apparently Charles was a "borrower," a slang term for a witch or wizard who sold their soul to a demon in exchange for their powers. He'd used a healing spell on me to 'rectify Meg's exuberance."

"Wow," I muttered under my breath. The people around here were really good at mincing words, "I think you mean, beating the shit outta me, right?"

"Don't do that," he admonished, shaking his head in distaste, "Azazel has taught you to expect a higher standard for yourself. You are so much more than one of your flannel-wearing, no-class family members. You are one of us. You have powers just like we do, Alyson. You're more a part of us than you are one of them, I know you know this. They're not going to want you back knowing you're 80% demon, child. James told me that he mentioned how we feel about you. We've never had a family member as young as you before. That makes you a novelty, in a good way. We all want to help you but you have to listen to me. Azazel has never been kind or fair, but he's taken truly uncharacteristic steps to be good to you. _That's_ what you inspire in all of us. We all believe that we have a higher purpose and that Azazel is the only one who can lead us there. As long as that remains true, we will follow him. Always. I know it doesn't really make sense because you haven't had time to absorb it all yet and you don't have all the facts, but we really want you here, Aly. None of us want to hurt you."

"Tell that to Meg," I said quietly, ashamed of the effect his words were having on me and trying to hide it with sarcasm.

"'Meg' was disciplined by our father for her arrogance. Arrogance that led to failure. It was more than justified. It's possible that she spent too long in Meg's body pretending to be a 16 year old teenager. Her peevishness…."

"Her name was Meg too?"

"Coincidentally, yes."

"What happened to the real Meg?" I asked sadly, not really wanting to hear the answer but needing to.

Charles chose to answer me by ignoring the question completely.

"Are you done?" he nodded towards my plate.

I bobbed my head slightly and his face became serious.

"Azazel wanted to wait until you were awake and had eaten. It's time for your testing to continue. I would suggest you curb your attitude, Alyson. Meg has put our father in a foul mood. He was very unhappy that she'd injured you. Come."

He held out his hand and with no other choice, I let him lead back to the underground hellhole,. Azazel was waiting for me in that room. James and Linda were already there and there was a stack of old pieces of furniture, as well as the paint cans and bricks all neatly lined up against the back wall.

Oh God, they were going to use them and I was going to get killed!

Azazel smiled and hugged me to him when I'd reached his side. He held onto my shoulders as he pushed me away from him to get a closer look at my face.

"Well done, Charles. My daughter is healed and fed and ready to be the obedient child I know she is."

Veiled threats and double talk. He'd been speaking this way about me and to me the whole time I'd known him. I closed my eyes again. Just one more way that I was a total screw up. If Sam had been in my place, not like he would've ever been in this situation, he would have deciphered their code right away.

Azazel brushed away the tears I hadn't even noticed I was crying.

"No more tears, Aly. If you do what you're told, you won't need them, okay?"

He turned me to face the instruments of my destruction, looked at Linda and said, "Begin."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I was on my knees wailing again, my head aching and my body pummelled by the objects they'd launched at me. Azazel had instructed Linda to aim at the non-critical parts of my body. I wasn't sure which those were but all I knew is that I felt like dying just the same.

"Please!" I begged, "I can't do it. I don't know why? I've tried _everything_ to repeat what I did with those cops and the bullets but I didn't do that on purpose- it just happened. Why won't you believe me?"

Azazel's yellow eyes gleamed down at me in a terrifying mix of anger and disgust. He reached down and grabbed me by the hair. I knew he was going to kill me now and I closed my eyes praying to God that my family would forgive me one day. He bared his teeth at me but suddenly, James' hand was on his arm, holding him back and directing his attention to another demon I'd never seen before who had just come into the room.

Azazel shoved me at James, who held me up while the demon spoke animatedly in Azazel's ear.

Oh yeah, he had _many_ levels of anger.

"Bring her to me!"

Meg was dragged in a few minutes later and tossed on the ground at Azazel's feet.

I sucked in a breath, my eyes wide. What was happening?

"This is what I get, is it?" Azazel addressed the room in general, "We all are working towards one glorious purpose and I am doing everything I can to help us realise it. Our father has spoken to me; he's shown me the path and he's given me all the knowledge we need to get there. All any of you have to do is what I tell you to, no more, no less. _I_ do the thinking for _all of you!_ Some of you are more loyal and capable than others and so I give you more responsibility. Take Meg, for example, my daughter and right hand. We have worked together to show Aly how important she is to us. How much love we hold for her. Meg has done an amazing job from the very beginning. Aly came into the fold because of the love that Meg showed her in her time of need and she demonstrated her tremendous powers thanks to the test Meg engineered. Not that surprising really. Meg has had tremendous success with every task she's ever been set. So imagine how disappointed I am that not only has she failed at securing a very important weapon as I directed her to but now I find out that she's been sending text messages and pictures to the Winchesters about Aly's exploits since she came to stay with us…'"

"No, father...!" Meg cried, holding onto Azazel's legs, her face a mass of bruises.

"They were found on your phone!" he bellowed, staring down at her, "doctored videos of Alyson helping you and Nicole steal perfume at the Mall, the pictures of Alyson passed out at a party….this whole time, you've been taunting the Winchesters, giving them potential ways to track down our location."

"I…I..."

"Be quiet! You sent them footage of the robbery at the convenience store. I've never thought of you as stupid, Meg, but I am doubting that now. The Winchesters don't need any more motivation to track down Alyson. Still images of that footage have been run through the F.B.I. database according to our people in that agency. They are trying to find her and they are currently in Arkansas attempting to do so. Bob is missing, Meg. You let that moron take the lead in the search for The Colt and he ran at the first sign of trouble. Now John Winchester has it and they are somehow, magically in Bob's home state!"

"Father…"

"You know how I hate loose ends, Meg. I have sent Nicole to deal with yours, just as I sent James and Charles to take care of your friend, Andy, Alyson!"

I squeaked a little, putting my hand over my mouth. Oh no! It hadn't been a dream. Andy and his wife had died just because he'd been a kind man who'd stopped to help a runaway.

"I think I have grown tired of disobedient, entitled daughters who feel like they can take my kindness and generosity for granted. So, Meg, I'll let you play big sister again so you can show Alyson what happens when one of my children fails or betrays me."

Meg flew into the air suddenly, suspended horizontally with her limbs flailing.

"Oh and Aly, I wouldn't take too much comfort in knowing that the rest of the Losechester family is trying to find you. She may have been misguided, but Meg here knows how to cover her tracks- usually. There's no way for them to identify anything that will help them trace you. And as I've said, we clean up our messes. All those lovely policemen you met during your felonious spree were my demons. How do you think they responded so quickly, or made sure you didn't get hurt- well, at least enough to make it believable?"

"What about the clerk at the Gas N' Sip, and those people at the café, those onlookers on the…."

"Alyson, you _do_ realise that we're demons right?" James asked, shaking me a little, "This is what I was trying to tell you. That Roger guy and that kid that worked there? Collateral damage. The café customers? We killed anyone who might have seen you and those onlookers, well, you remember, Linda and Rosa, right? Different meat-suits, same demons. You did the rest, honey. What a good girl you were too, grabbing all the tech. You're a natural."

"Oh my God, you're all monsters!" I screamed, trying to free myself from James' grasp.

"Oh Aly," Azazel grinned, darkly, "You're about to find out just how much."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"It's been almost a day, already!" Dean exclaimed, pacing the same 10 foot strip of carpet for the 100th time, "Is it my imagination or is Ash getting worse at this? And after I told him last time what would happen…."

Sam sighed as Dean ranted the same rant he'd been ranting ever since his ranting had begun 12 hours ago. He wasn't sure if Dean really needed _this_ much reassurance or he actually had a problem with his hearing.

"Dean," he called, irritation lacing his voice, "Dean!"

"What, Sam?" Dean stopped momentarily, crossing his arms and glaring at his brother.

"There are almost 13 million people in Illinios with a 73.5% Caucasian population consisting of 18% males under 18. Of those 13 million, almost 9 million of them are officially licenced drivers…."

"Oh my God, Sam!" Dean threw his hands up in the air and shook his head angrily, "If the next words out of your mouth have something to do with you wanting to know what time two trains heading towards each other but traveling at different speeds, are gonna cross each other, I'm going to hurt you!"

Sam spoke over him, "What I'm trying to get through to you, Dean, for the _500th time,_ is that there are a lot of faces to get through and we're cross referencing the F.B.I database with the DMV. Between the two, they're bound to find a match with the composite drawing."

Dean's plan had been rather elaborate but effective. They'd hightailed it to Chicago and contacted an old local Police officer friend of Bobby's named Daryl, who knew him to be a U.S. Marshal. Bobby had mentioned him numerous times to the Winchesters over the years and so, when Sam had mentioned Illinois, Daryl was the first name that popped into Dean's head. They'd asked for their favor to be kept under wraps using the story that their C.I., who'd infiltrated a local faction of the Chilean drug cartel, had gotten killed on their watch and that they needed help tracking down an eye witness who'd fled from the scene. Sitting down with a sketch artist, Sam had managed to describe almost perfectly the teenager he'd seen repeatedly in Aly's projected memories. Daryl was only too happy to help since Bobby had saved his life a few years ago. Both men refused to elaborate on what had happened but Sam didn't care. They'd gotten what they wanted and now the rest was up to Ash.

Dean had been rather proud of himself when they'd returned after their successful mission, expecting his 'wonderfully well-crafted scheme'- his words, to yield results immediately. He'd been downright irritating in his impatience ever since, as always. Sam had quoted statistics to him, numerous times afterwards, trying to explain the situation but the effort had been for naught. Realizing that Dean was about to start going at it again, Bobby _and_ John had _both_ volunteered to get dinner- from Texas, Bobby had muttered under his breath- if it would mean not having to hear Dean's rant one more time. They all understood that this was just his way of coping but it was driving them all nuts. Sam escaped to the bathroom under the guise of taking a shower; like he had numerous times in the past day or two when he'd drawn the short end of the straw and had gotten stuck with Dean. Who knew his brother could be this neurotic?

It was late evening the next day when Ash got back to them. John had managed to wrangle enough of Dean's energy during the day by making him clean both vehicles as well as inventory all of their weapons and ammunition. Indeed, detailing Baby from top to bottom had had the most effect on him, calming him down enough that Bobby was able to get him to sit still for long enough to engage in a 'high stakes' poker match with the rest of them. The pot was up to $400 and Dean was convinced he had the current round in the bag. So when the call came, everyone was more relaxed than they'd been for days. The kid, Glenn Franklyn Elliot III lived in Winnetka, Illinois, the only child of Glenn Senior and Beverly Elliot, two paediatricians who'd been reported as unexpectedly absent from work for the past four days. Their son Glenn, had also been reported missing, though there had been withdrawals made from his bank account through a local ATM, not 6 hours ago. Police were investigating.

"They're after him," Bobby said, urgently.

"Thanks Ash!" Sam said, shutting his phone. He quickly Googled on his laptop. "It's about a half-hour drive via the I-94. Hurry, we may already be too late!"

Packing up and checking out of the motel took 5 minutes; getting to Glenn's house 25 minutes, thanks to Dean's driving. The Eliot house was a Mediterranean style retreat tucked away on a 4 –acre property with three tennis courts and an in-ground pool. The 8 bedroom home was carefully tucked away in one corner, so that there was vast area of land that hid it away from the main road. When they reached the end of the tiled driveway, the house was in darkness. They entered the through the kitchen, spreading out systematically to check both floors. The parents' room looked like a bomb had hit it; clothes were strewn all over, drawers opened with their contents spilling out onto the carpet, the bathroom mirror smashed….it was hard to tell whether this had all happened before or after the police had gone over the place. Sam didn't like the look of any of it. His gut was telling him that the state of the room didn't bode well for the fates of the couple.

Dean found Glenn's room fairly quickly when he reached the 2nd floor. This room hadn't been completely ransacked like most of the others he'd come across but it had been searched, though there was something more methodical about it. Like whoever'd been through the room knew exactly what to look for and where. That meant it was unlikely to be Glenn and more someone who knew him very well. That someone was likely to be a demon, given the overwhelming stench of sulphur that was making it hard to breathe.

Dean pawed through the few open drawers and the closet. He was about to leave and regroup with the others, when he heard creaking coming from the closet he'd just checked out. He paused slightly before opening the bedroom door, making sure his gun was at the ready before he closed it again. Then, he ducked down into the shadows, keeping very still. A few moments passed by as he waited and then he heard it again. This time it was the distinctive sound of a creaky door swinging open followed by cautious footsteps. Dean waited for the individual to go past him before he sprung up from his crouch and placed the gun against the dark-haired head.

"Hands where I can see them, Glenn," he said quietly, recognizing the boy instantly.

"Who….who are you?"

The kid sounded scared or at least, he was pretending to be. He raised his trembling arms above his head and turned around when Dean ordered him to. A splash of Holy Water hit him in the face as soon as he did so.

"What the hell, man?" he shouted, spluttering and coughing.

"Just checking!" Dean answered, looking him over. He took an instant dislike to this boy band member, with his perfectly styled hair and expensive jacket. The kid had likely spent months with his sister and all he could think about was that the little jerk was too old for her. God help him when she wanted to start dating!

"You mean…you..you're not one of them?""

Dean was instantly on alert.

"One of..."

"Those things with the black eyes, man!" Glenn yelled, so distressed that he put his arms down and started pacing. Dean let him.

"Demons," he said simply.

"Yeah I know what they are," Glenn retorted with agitation, "I had one _in_ me, for fuck's sake. That thing, the smoke…It just flew into…. It took me over and I could see myself doing things, like my hands were moving, and I could see through my own eyes, but it wasn't me. You know what I mean? I…"

"Kid. KID!" Dean grabbed Glenn and shook him, hoping to pry him out of his panic, "You mean the demon possessed you. I know what you're talking about. I'm a hunter. I go after these things and kill them..."

"You kill them?" Glenn's eyes widened and then he grabbed Dean's shoulders and yelled, "You have to help me! They've already killed Jerry. My Mom and Dad… I have no idea where they are. I think they got to them too. I know they were here. That bitch is one of them and she came here looking for me after I got away from them. That's why I think they got to my parents. You have to help me! I don't….!"

"Glenn, shut up!" Dean extricated himself from Glenn's virtual stranglehold and grabbed the boy by the lapels. "Take a breath and calm down. You need to tell me what's going on and you can start by telling me how you know my sister, Alyson."

"Alyson?" Glenn looked confused, then his frown melted away, "Oh my God, you're one of her brothers. Which one are you?"

"I'm the older one, Dean. Now, how do you know my sister?"

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Dean managed to get the Cliff Notes version of Aly's past few months in Illinios. She'd turned up as the new house guest of one of Glenn's best friends, Meg and her father Zeke, an investment banker. Meg had practically forced the kid on him and their other friends Jerry and Nicole; taking her everywhere they went including parties and raves that 'Pollyanna', as he called her, was really too young for. Meg had told them that they should encourage her to drink, smoke and party because Alyson _wanted_ to fit in, but she was just so shy. She'd come from a poor background with a deadbeat family and abusive brothers so it hadn't taken them long to, however reluctantly, agree to letting the kid tag along. She'd been getting closer and closer to Meg and Zeke, even considering them to be her new family when an asshole football player named Scott had tried to take advantage of her at one of those parties. Fortunately, nothing had happened and he and a few guys had 'rearranged' the kid's face.

Dean shook his head, closing his eyes against the pain of those words.

"What happened next?" he asked, when the boy had paused on seeing his expression.

"Well, we didn't see her for a few days 'cause Meg said Alyson was having a real hard time. PTSD, I think she said? Anyway, I went to pick up Nicole and that's when the smoke…I…it flew inside me and took me over. But I could see everything, Mr. Winchester. They'd already po..possessed Jerry and I figured out real quick that Nicole was one of them and so was Meg. I think…I think they'd taken them over for a while now. I could tell something wasn't right with them, maybe for months, but I figured it was hormones or P.M.S. or whatever turns girls into bitches…"

"Get on with it, Glenn," Dean said, figuring that the boy's life would have been under threat for that statement alone, even if demons weren't chasing him already.

Sam entered the bedroom, looking for his brother. Dean has been late for the planned team rendezvous in the kitchen and the three other men had spread out to go look for him.

"Dean?" Sam said carefully, his gun trained on Glenn just in case.

It's okay, Sam. Glenn's clean. He's catching me up on his time with Aly. Go on, Glenn."

The teen glanced nervously between the Winchester brothers. They were two huge, really tall… _armed_ dudes and he'd just confessed to agreeing to morally corrupt their 14 year old sister.

"Uhhh…." he paused, staring with wide eyes at their guns.

"It's okay, Glenn," Dean knew exactly what was causing this bout of stage fright, "if you make it out of this house alive, we'll discuss the dangers of teenaged smoking, drinking and partying and then talk about how turning my 14 year old sister onto that stuff will get you killed."

"Uhhhh," Glenn gulped.

 _"Now_ , Glenn!"

Glenn started at Dean's impatient bellow.

"Uhh, so yeah, Meg planned for us to rob this Gas N'Sip. Wanted Aly to get involved, you know. 'Shoot him' she kept telling her! Aly was having no part of it and Meg was real pissed off. It was this huge elaborate test, see? To make Aly 'show her powers'. I was listening to all of this and thinking that these demon things were smelly and crazy, right? I mean, do you smell my room, man? There's no way that's gonna ever come…"

"Glenn!"

"…I got hurt before we left the store but I could tell my demon was just faking, you know? I mean, that ricochet _did_ hit me, but it didn't even hurt. Well, not then anyways, I felt kinda numb then but now it hurts like shit and I think it's infected?"

"Demon possessed bodies can withstand a lot more than the normal human one," Sam interjected.

"Yeah. Anyways, the police were on our asses real fast. Never seen the cops roll up on anything that fast in the city 'cept when there's donuts involved."

Glenn grinned at his own joke then sobered as Dean growled lowly.

"So our car got spiked during the car chase near the Lake. Nicole, the bitch with the death wish, kept taunting the cops, and they shot at us. Aly, man, it was amazing. I don't know how she..."

Gunfire erupted nearby in the hallway, the shouts of Bobby and John clear above the fray warning Sam and Dean that they were about to have company.

"Get behind me," Dean shouted, dragging Glenn to the ground and shoving him roughly into the hiding spot he'd himself vacated earlier. The kid was shaking, his breath hitching and eyes wild, as they darted between the door and the rest of the room. A few seconds later, the door was blasted inwards with such force that the brothers were blown backwards, across the room. Glenn screamed and started scrabbling on his hands and knees, attempting to get back to the hidey hole that his parents had insisted be built for him in case of home invasions just like this one.

"Oh no, Glenn, you got away from me once, it's not going to happen again!" the girl cooed, placing her boot squarely in the middle of his back and pinning his body to the floor, "You've been really lucky, human. Now you can go see your Mommy and Daddy in hell!"

The demon raised her hand, intending to snap the idiot's neck when she heard a gun cock.

She looked up with a grin; both Winchesters had her trained in their sights.

"Back off!" Dean growled loudly, his voice almost drowned out by the ongoing gun battle somewhere outside the room.

"Seriously, why is it that every time I look around there are more of you, Winchesters? You're like cockroaches!"

"Back away from the kid!" Sam shouted.

"First, your Daddy crying over your dead Mommy, then your cry-baby little sister ruining my perfectly good summer - I really don't get paid enough for this," she scoffed.

"Please, Nicole, let me go!"

"My name isn't Nicole, moron!" she said digging her heel further into Glenn's back, "Nicole's been dead for 3 months. I just used her meatsuit to infiltrate your little clique. I gotta tell you Glenn, if you're meant to be a prime example of the kids of your generation, well, you're all fucked!"

"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, bitch? Is being one of the whores of hell hard on your knees…"

'Nicole's' eyes flashed, and she threw Dean across the room with a flick of her wrist. She laughed when Sam held his gun up higher.

"What do you think that BB gun's going to do to me?"

"Salted iron rounds," Sam replied his voice even and steady. He could see Dean stirring on the ground from the corner of his eye and he wanted to keep her distracted.

"Oh, honey," 'Nicole' said, with feigned sympathy, "flesh wounds at best!"

She paused, sizing him up.

"It's a real pity, Winchester. You're kinda cute, in a Hicksville corn-belt kinda way. What I wouldn't give to get you tied down so I could run my knife across your skin. I'd cut pieces off your pretty little body, one by one and make you watch while I feed them to little Aly. I bet she'd like it. She's happy being one of us now, Sam. Gave up on you assholes almost as soon as we took her in!"

'Nicole's' eyes narrowed as she studied him, "Hmmmmmm, I'll bet you taste as sweet as you look…"

"I don't date hell bitches!" Sam retorted, choosing to ignore her disparaging comments about his sister. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Dean raising his gun.

"Time for you all to die, Sammy. You're beginning to bore me."

'Nicole' raised her hand as Dean launched himself at her. She was caught off guard and knocked off her feet. Glenn crawled away and Sam rushed to help Dean. He opened his flask of Holy Water and poured the entire contents down her throat. 'Nicole' screamed and Dean shot her in the stomach.

"Get her arm, Sammy!"

"I'm trying,...!"

'Nicole' screamed again and shoved Sam off her, throwing him onto the wall. He bounced off, falling flat onto his back, groaning with the impact. They could hear more gunfire outside the room, seemingly closer now.

Dean shot her again. From the corner of his eye, he saw Glenn slinking his way out the doorway and he rolled his eyes. Of course the little idiot would run _towards t_ he sound of gunfire!

'Nicole' threw Dean off her, laughing manically as she got slowly to her feet.

"It's been fun, boys, but I'm done with this. I have a teenaged moron to kill, a house to burn down and a little girl to help skin alive. Bye Sammy, can't wait to see you in Hell. We can have our date then….."

The smoke from The Colt wafted through the air. Nicole's eyes widened slightly for a second and then she dropped straight to the ground, dead. John Winchester walked into the room, his eyes darting across to his sons.

"You two all right?" he asked.

"Yeah!"

"I'm good!"

"Then get your asses out here! There's still one more of these bastards downstairs and I got separated from Bobby. Come on!"

The brothers picked themselves and their guns off the ground, Dean favoring his right ankle as he followed their father.

"We have to find the kid. We need him to take us to Al…."

The sickening crack of a body hitting the floor echoed through the house.

"Damn it!" Sam hissed.

They rushed out of the room, tearing down the stairs in the direction of the noise. All else was quiet until both John and Dean were launched off the staircase by said remaining demon. Sam recognized him instantly as one of the men who had killed Andy and Jenny Goddard in Guthrie and his anger flared. He dropped to his hands and knees and scrabbled after The Colt, which had fallen from John's hand. The demon, seemingly realizing what Sam was attempting to do, quickly flicked his wrist, trying to summon the gun to himself. At first, it launched through the air towards him, the black-eyed vessel smiling triumphantly but then, like a boomerang it returned to Sam who caught it in his outstretched hand.

The demon's eyes widened with a look of dawning comprehension as the smell of gunpowder again filled a room. He dropped where he stood, the look forever frozen on his face. Sam looked down in wonder at The Colt in his hand for a second before he caught himself, tucked it into his jeans and rushed to help his father and brother, who were just managing to lift themselves off the ground.

"Good job getting the jump on him, Sammy," said Dean, grimacing as he put weight on his injured ankle.

"Dad, are you okay?" Sam asked, as John stretched out his back.

"Yeah," John gritted his teeth against the pain in his lower spine, "Where's Bobby?"

They spread out to look but it wasn't very long before they found Bobby, who was just coming to. He'd been knocked out cold when his head hit the kitchen tiles defending Glenn, who'd managed to make it half way through the kitchen door as he tried to escape.

The boy was covered in bruises and blood; one of the demons clearly finding the time during the melee to enjoy their assignment by attempting to slice open every inch of exposed skin. John shook his head at the boys; Glenn's fate was sealed. Dean limped over to him and, as gently as he could turned the crying teenager over onto his back. He cried out with the pain and Dean grimaced sympathetically.

"Glenn," he said softly, "Please, tell me where they live? Tell me their names, anything. I have to find Aly."

"They...she…they're...Masters...Zeke….Masters…Oak Brook…they're…in…Oak B..."

Dean laid the boy onto the ground, closing his eyes. Despite their having killed every member of the demon hit-squad, they'd failed. 16 year old Glenn was dead.

"Zeke and Meg Masters in Oak Brook," Sam said simply.

"We've got them," Dean whispered as he looked up at John, Sam and now Bobby, who'd been helped into a chair, "We've got those fuckers!"

"Not yet," John said, his voice filled with steely determination, "We can't go in there guns blazing..!"

He held up his hand to halt Dean's protests before they could start.

"…We go in smart and we go in clean. Your sister's life depends on it."

Sam was about to verbalize his agreement but John wasn't done.

"We've waited a long time; sacrificed _everything_ for this. We're gonna get your sister and kill this demon once and for all, or I'm going to die trying!"

Sam nodded, as did the others.

Team Winchester was finally taking the fight to the Yellow-eyed Demon and God help anyone or _anything_ that tried to stand in their way.


	27. Chapter 27

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is written by the talented and amazing _delacre._**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Violence, torture, psychological abuse**

"No, Alyson, keep your eyes open. I've been coddling you these past two days because you're my youngest but maybe you need a demonstration of what happens when my children fail me."

That was the problem. I was pretty sure I'd seen enough of his 'loving fatherly attention' to last me a life time. It seemed like this had gone on for hours, Meg screaming and crying the whole time. Azazel had done everything but turn her inside out. She'd been pelted repeatedly by all the heavy objects in the room, ones I'd thought were going to be kept exclusively for me. Every bit of her exposed skin was battered and bruised and I was pretty sure she had broken ribs, if the way she was breathing was any indication. Blood was streaming from her eyes where her eyelids had been carved out and the skin had been peeled off her hands right down to the bones. It was his ironic way of teaching her not to use technology to taunt and galvanize one of his greatest enemies, John Winchester. With no hands or eyes, there was unlikely to be any texting or filming or phone use at all. The rest of her injuries were simply because "she deserved it."

What was most disturbing- and yes, you had to break this horrific spectacle into degrees of disturbing- was the maniacal, satisfied glee he seemed to get from torturing his _'so_ - _called daughter'_ himself. It disgusted me that, after every sick, vile torment, he'd turned to me to make sure I'd seen and heard everything- almost like we were sharing in each of his 'accomplishments.' Like every scream, or moan or plea was something of which we could both be proud. How I hadn't vomited several times _already_ I'd never know. And through it all, James had made sure that I was fully focused on the depravity; I was going to have to find some way to thank him for that.

When he realized that Meg had started to become numb to any new stimuli, Azazel decided that it was time for Charles to repair all the damage he'd done so he could start all over again.

"And while your sister is being healed and prepared for the second round of her punishment," he said indifferently, as he wiped the blood off his hands, "you _will_ demonstrate your powers to me Alyson, all of them, or you can join Meg. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," I replied quickly, not wanting to aggravate him in any way.

He smiled at me seemingly pleased with my quick acquiescence and he called for Charles as he swept out of the room. James turned me around to face him, wiping away my tears with his thumbs and asking me if I was thirsty. I didn't let on how much I wanted to use one of the cement bricks to smash the duplicitous, insincere concern from his face as I nodded. He let me go then, and I rubbed at the bruises covering my arms where his vice-like grip had held me in place. He didn't leave me for long, first mopping at my face with a cool washcloth like I was five years old and then handing me a bottle of water. I guzzled half of it immediately, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. I looked down at Meg, who was now on the floor curled in a fetal position moaning softly. It was hard not to have some kind of sympathy for her but then I remembered what she'd said and done to me hours before and a morbid satisfaction came over me at seeing her suffering. I looked away, trying to get her out of my mind. I had to worry about myself now. I had to keep myself alive long enough for my family to find me.

There was a lot of murmuring in the room as we waited for Charles. It seemed to be taking quite a long time really. Enough time for some of the minions to clean up the room and for James to head upstairs and back to bring me a sandwich I told him I didn't want. He said Rosa was insisting that I eat something because I was going to need my strength for my upcoming 'training session' with my father. Azazel, now wearing clean clothes, came back as I was finishing my Coke. He seemed very surprised when he saw that Meg was still lying unattended where he'd left her nearly 30 minutes ago.

"James," he said, his voice reflecting his irritation, "Where is Charles? I expected that _this_ would be dealt with by the time I got back. Alyson needs to have this area cleared for her work this evening."

James left my side without a word and headed out the door. Azazel came over to me and gently but firmly, pulled me to standing and into a tight hug.

"I know I was hard on your sister but you both need to understand that I don't take misbehavior lightly, even from my favored children. Hopefully, you've learned from her mistakes and you're ready to obey, yes?"

He paused as I nodded my head furiously and he kissed my temple.

"Good girl."

He let me go but held onto my chin, staring straight into my eyes. I assumed I looked suitably intimidated because he nodded and let me go. I exhaled, letting out the breath I hadn't even realized I was holding as he put his arms across my shoulders and pulled me into his side. We both seemed to avoid looking at Meg intentionally as we waited. Soon afterwards, James was rushing into the room and heading towards us.

"What?" asked Azazel.

"It's Charles. Apparently he hasn't been contactable for a few hours and neither have Mia or the others so we sent Eric to their last known location…"

James paused, staring between me and Azazel and back again.

"Go on, speak!"

"They're dead…Single bullet to the heart."

Azazel's arm left my shoulders and he stepped forward slowly.

 _"What did you say?"_

"I think it was them. With the…gun."

"Who did you find?"

"All of them- Mia, Charles, Jason…..the boy was dead too but it's impossible to know how much he might have told them."

Azazel now stood in front of James who was trying very hard to remain stoic. Given his Master's state of mind, I wasn't surprised that he was worrying whether "shoot the messenger" was going to describe his immediate future. I stared at them trying to decipher the meaning of this cryptic conversation. So Charles and Nicole (or really Mia) and at least one other demon were dead. I didn't know how to feel about that so I pushed the information away to deal with later. I had to figure out why James was so afraid.

Something about the mention of a gun and the 'them' that had used it to kill demons made a crazy thought flit through my mind. I was truly afraid to give it too much of my attention for fear that too much hope would blossom within me because of it. Could it have been my family? Azazel _had_ _s_ pent hours torturing Meg because she'd been taunting my Dad. Maybe my family _was_ getting closer to finding me and that's why he'd gone medieval, literally, on Meg. If that was true, then I couldn't give up. I had to do what I could to keep myself alive for when they came for me. I took a deep breath attempting to calm and fortify myself when I saw the look Azazel gave me when he turned around.

"Courage, Winchester!" I said to myself, as he stalked towards me.

Whatever had happened, I was about to feel the brunt of his ire. He came at me quickly, backhanding me and sending me flying before I'd even had a chance to back away. He picked me up by the throat and held me up in the air. He stared up at me with murderous eyes and I closed mine. Did you actually feel the pain of your neck snapping before you died? I was still struggling to breathe and not pass out waiting to find out 10 seconds later. Frankly, it surprised me. Tentatively, I opened my eyes and looked down at him. The room was very quiet; all the other occupants were waiting with bated breath to see how this was going to play out. Azazel himself, seemed to be struggling with the decision until James stepped forward and tried to convince him to spare me. James won. I was unceremoniously dropped to the ground where I heaved and spluttered as I sucked in all the air I could. He looked down at me so coldly, that for the first time, I could truly see the inhuman demon within. I shuddered as I huddled on the ground, not making any more eye contact.

"Stay alive, Aly!" I kept repeating the phrase in my mind. I couldn't do anything to push him over the edge right now; it was a really close thing.

A few more moments passed and then he spoke again.

"I was willing to indulge you, Alyson. A few bruises and maybe even some broken bones- at least you would have been alive but your Daddy…your _Daddy_ has made me rethink my strategy. Our timeline has been accelerated, little girl, and I am _done_ playing nice with you. "

He pulled me up by my arm, almost wrenching it from the socket. He slapped my face again, while keeping hold of me so I couldn't move away.

"It's time you understand your true purpose here, Alyson. You, _human,_ are a means to an end, and your worth to me is two-fold. One, I need to harness your powers for my future plans and two, having you here is a wondrous way to _fuck with John Winchester!"_

He grabbed me by the neck and propelled me in front of him. I would have gone flying had it not been for James who, because he was standing behind me was able to right me immediately. He kept holding onto my arm, even after I had regained my footing and began dragging me towards the door.

"Find me another witch," Azazel said as he followed, "I want Meg healed and then we'll need to keep them on standby for the girl. She can't die before I get what I need from her."

My eyes shot to James who in turn stared down at me with a neutral expression. Oh God! What was I going to do? I stumbled along behind him as he pulled me past my cell and led me into a room I'd never seen before. I stopped short as soon as I entered. I had no idea what part of the house it was under but someone had literally dug an antechamber and subsequent cavern in the bedrock; a large altar perched ominously up on a dais in the middle of it.

I let out an incredulous laugh which I tried to cover up by coughing. Could this be any more of a cliché? Was it a requirement of all supernatural beings to have some sacrificial shrine in a dark cave, complete with torch sconces lining the walls? Unfortunately, James wasn't fooled and he spun me around and shook me roughly.

"Despite what you think, some of us don't want to see you die today. You have _got_ to stop thinking that your family is coming for you, Alyson. It's giving you false hope and making you reckless. Our father will not countenance any more delays. He _will_ hurt you and even if you survive it, you may wish you hadn't.

"I don't know how many times I can say this. I'm _not_ faking! I swear, I've been trying but every time I do, I get this feeling like I'm not in control of myself."

I'd never seen James this intense before and I was thoroughly confused. I didn't know how to take anything he said; his quiet intimidation mixed with this attempted earnest concern was making my head spin. I didn't have much more time to ponder his motives though because suddenly I felt a hand grab me by the hair and tug my head back.

"It's time for you to live up to expectations," Azazel said to me coldly. He seemed to be calmer…just.

"Yes sir," I replied quickly, as he shoved me into the larger room.

I wasn't quite sure why we'd come in here but I knew I wasn't going to like it. Not from the way Azazel kept pushing me towards that altar. He lifted me on to it before I'd even had a chance to protest and he and James strapped me down.

"What…what are you doing?"

"There are a number of things that have been kept from you Alyson, but now, I think that you need to know a bit more about our family. Let them in, James, it's time for _Aly_ to meet her brothers and sisters."

He tilted the altar so that suddenly I was flipped vertically. My eyes were immediately drawn to the entrance. A steady stream of black-eyed demons were filing into the room, all holding candles and chanting in Latin. My brain was screaming at me that I needed to get out of here at all costs because whatever was about to happen, was clearly an escalation I knew I didn't want. I gasped when I saw some familiar people. They were the workers that Azazel had brought in to update the security system. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I really was an idiot.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the one who looked like Scott. He had positioned himself directly in my line of sight, smirking at me once he realized I'd spotted him. I felt my heart start to race as my anxiety rose to the fore. I almost… _.almost_ gave into it- that look on his face was a near perfect carbon copy of the way Scott had looked when he'd been on top of me, choking the life out of me. Then I remembered that fear was exactly what these demons were using to control me. While they were doing a pretty bang up job of terrifying me with disgusting visuals, there was no way I was going to let the head games overwhelm me anymore. Panicking was going to get me killed. I tamped down the urge to scream and instead, stared him down with the Winchester Glare. When he realized that he wasn't going to break me, he looked away and I smiled to myself. I'd take the victory, however small.

The line of entering demons was petering out; at least 100 of them had come in and filled the room. Meg was led in by Rosa and Linda, a somewhat vacant stare on her face yet looking no worse for wear. Clearly there was at least one Madame Pomfrey on speed dial in Hell because whoever had managed to restore Meg's meatsuit that well in that short space of time, deserved a raise. She avoided looking directly at me as she was planted in the front, her escorts staying close beside her. It was only a few moments later when the last of the demons entered. Azazel turned and studied me as he signaled for the chanting to stop, then he addressed the throng.

"I see before me a group of both my most revered children and my most loyal soldiers. For months, we have all worked tirelessly to ready our newest family member for the most momentous of jobs. We brought her into the fold knowing that even though her powers hadn't fully matured, her near unlimited potential would be more than enough to guarantee our success. And achieving that success is paramount because the time is now. _Our_ time is _now!_ Our Father trusted us with the most important duty imaginable, ensuring his resurrection and return to His former glory. Once Lucifer reclaims His throne in Hell, we will conquer this world and enslave the _animals_ that live here. _We_ are the future and Alyson will help deliver it to us."

Azazel paused to look back at me with a smug grin. I stared at him in disbelief. Had I just heard the name Lucifer? As in The Devil? That was a _real_ person? And Azazel somehow thought that I was going to be able to resurrect the freaking Devil with my wonky, on again - off again abilities? I was going to die. He'd torture me first and then I was going to die. I was about to start hyperventilating when he began to speak again.

"Unfortunately, outside forces are threatening our mission as we speak. The supremely annoying Winchesters and their sidekick The Junkyard Bob, may have gained information from the young moron Glenn after they killed your brethren. Mia, Charles and Jason are dead, killed by The Colt- the gun I sent my most trusted yet most disappointing child, Meg, to retrieve. These humans are on a fool's errand, trying to rescue Alyson from her _true_ family. While our youngest is fulfilling her glorious purpose, we will dispose of them once and for all."

I found my courage after that.

"I….I won't help you! You're crazy if you think I'm going to help you raise the Devil while you plan to kill my family….."

Azazel laughed like he was genuinely amused.

"Oh Alyson, you are so innocent. Do you honestly think that you've been able to develop these abilities all on your own? Let me give you a little history lesson that will help you to understand your position. When you were six months old, I paid you a little visit just like I did your brother Samuel before you. Lucifer was clear that Sam was to be one of my 'special' children. It puzzled me how adamant He was about it and I confess it made me very curious about your family. So, I did as my Father wanted, and made Sammy mine. To do that, I had to make a deal with the dearly departed Mary Winchester. Let's say I had your Daddy in quite the predicament and she 'agreed' to let me have Sam if I wouldn't kill John. So, I waited patiently and, when he was 6 months old, I visited your brother and fed him my blood. Johnny, the war hero, found out about it a few years later. I'm surprised he didn't kill your mother when he did, I know I would have. I do know that he began researching the supernatural soon after and became a hunter. Lots of natural ability apparently-found his true calling in life."

"He was well into his trade when he first came across demons. By happenstance, his introduction to our kind found him killing a few of my most loyal soldiers and offspring. I don't know whether that was coincidence or not but regardless, I needed very little motivation to return to his home and kill his family. So I watched them one day, saw them living in their nauseating little fairytale life and decided to do the world a favor and end it that night. I made sure that Sam was safe in a deep sleep while I tried to decide whether I wanted to get it over with quickly or whether I wanted to have your mother kill and eat little Dean and while forcing your daddy to watch before I killed her. When I was about to retrieve Dean for supper, I heard you in your crib. I had no idea you existed before then. You were a beautiful child, the spitting image of your nearly departed mother. Now, I knew it was greedy of me but I just couldn't resist. I already had your brother, and your father had killed so many of my children, I decided it was only right that his precious little girl become mine as well..."

"So I fed you my blood. I could practically _smell_ it on you, Alyson. I mean, it was obvious from the get-go that there was something unique about you even amongst all the other special children I've made. Your mother must have heard your cries and she found me with you. _She_ presumed to get in my way, _I_ presumed to gut her and pin her to the ceiling. Your daddy came in just as I was deciding what to do with the rest of sweet Mary. Then it came to me. I just, set her on fire. And poor John! The look on his face- absolute devastation. I decided in that moment that it was much more satisfying to revel in his despair than to kill him outright. Since then, he's dedicated his life and your brothers' lives to hunting me down. And aren't they the good little soldiers? Spending the best years of their lives moving from town to town, motel to motel always searching for one more monster..."

Azazel paused dramatically and whispered to me conspiratorially, "Between you and me, I think he's really screwed those boys up for life."

Then louder for everyone, "But not you, little Alyson. You've never even had a quarter of the aptitude your brothers have had with hunting, have you? What a disappointment you must be; a Winchester who is _so terrible_ at the family business that she can't even recognize when she's been taken into the home of her family's worst enemy. It's almost as if you aren't are a real Winchester and they all know it. _My_ blood, Alyson, not _his,_ has made you everything you are today- a wonderfully powerful young woman who is ready to become one of my… no, one of Lucifer's most exalted children when you fulfil your destiny and free Him from His incarceration. Pledge your loyalty to me and my Father-we will make you so much more than they ever could."

He stopped and looked at me, they _all_ looked at me, expecting an answer. I stared back for a few moments then looked away. I couldn't believe what I'd heard. All this time. ALL THIS TIME. My father and my brothers had known about the extent to which Azazel had ruined our lives. From the _very beginning_ of my life and Sam's life. And my mother? _Letting_ him taint her son, her child? I couldn't believe those people, those liars!

Just as Azazel had said, the Winchesters had held me to impossible standards, feeding me lines about my safety and how much they loved me, all the while knowing that this demon was after us. Making me feel like I was a burden and an ungrateful brat when I tried to have the normal life they kept insisting they wanted for me. I wasn't an idiot. If I'd known what was going on, I could have been more careful, I would have tried harder to learn about hunting. Instead, I'd been virtually branded a failure at everything Winchester- tracking, shooting, my damned schoolwork...Azazel had been extreme in his methods but he hadn't been wrong. My family didn't deserve my admiration, my tears, my love...or me.

I raised my eyes to Azazel and stared into his eyes. I could see everything there- the budding triumph, like he knew that his words had decimated the very heart of me and that I had nowhere else to go now, no one else to turn to, no place left to hide. I stared into his eyes. He was right, right about all of it...and when I was reunited with my family, they'd be answering a lot of questions and begging for my eternal forgiveness. But until then, this yellow-eyed, narcissistic, sociopathic asshole could go fuck himself. And I told him just that.

Azazel's mouth opened slightly and his eyes narrowed. I was pretty sure he'd never in a million years have expected that answer. He roared in pure rage a few seconds later and, with his hand outstretched towards me, began choking me telekinetically. I writhed around as much as the restraints would let me, knowing that this was the end. He claimed to need me for my untapped power but I was sure he'd find some other person, one or all of his other special children, to free his Master.

I prayed that my family wouldn't grieve and blame themselves for my death for too long and that someday, my brothers would have another chance at a future and some happiness away from the life that had killed their mother and their sister. I prayed that I would find my mother in Heaven; that she would recognize me when she saw me and know that I was hers.

It didn't take long before the world faded to black.


	28. Chapter 28

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is written by the talented and amazing _delacre._ And the big news is that _delacre_ has started writing her own fic...please go over to her page and check it out! **

**CONTENT WARNING: Violence, torture, psychological abuse**

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"Alyson? Alyson?"

I heard the familiar voice, repeating my name over and over. My eyes opened slowly and I focused on the face above me. It seemed that near asphyxiation wasn't punishment enough for all the bad I'd done in my life. I was still in the dungeon, strapped to the altar and James was looking down at me with concern.

I tried to answer him but my voice was hoarse and it hurt to try so I settled for a slight nod. He looked relieved, and he wiped my sweaty brow with a cool cloth. After he checked my eyes and saw I was able to take big breaths without much difficulty, he turned to the gathered demons and nodded to them reassuringly. It seemed that it hadn't been a lie; they must have been really desperate for me to be as powerful as they expected for them to be this relieved that their leader hadn't killed me.

"I'm sorry I had to punish you, Alyson."

I heard Azazel's voice from my left and I croaked in fear. He was right next to me and he swept my hair back gently.

"My response was foolish and rash. Your immaturity angered me greatly and I forgot myself. You are one of us now, but you're young and need guidance. We are all so much older than you and you're already at a significant disadvantage being born of lesser beings. It's only natural that you have difficulty mastering these new abilities and bending them to your will. I know you are telepathic but perhaps it is not under your conscious control. It was Meg, your loving sister, who reminded me of this and prevented me from 'instructing' you further. She convinced me that we needed to take a step back and to offer you the benefit of our expertise and wisdom."

"How long have I been out?" I croaked.

"A few hours," a voice said on my right.

It was Meg, She looked somewhat subdued, even though there were a few embers of hope in her eyes. Whatever play she was making with me now, I could tell that she thought it could win her points with Azazel.

"Here, drink some. It's just water."

I was completely parched and had a splitting headache but I was so reluctant to drink anything she gave me. I did it anyway and it was amazing. I must have been really dehydrated because I felt instantaneously better and instantaneously worried.

"What did you put in that?" I asked, apprehensively.

Meg turned to Azazel who nodded.

" I can't believe you haven't figured this out yet. All those headaches you've had? Frankly you should have an MRI by now, don't you think? Your powers, Alyson, they've always been your powers trying to break through your subconscious. Father didn't tell you the rest of the story, so I will. We keep telling you that you're the youngest of the 'special children'. Didn't you wonder why that was? Sam isn't the only one his age. We've got others scattered around the country and each of them could easily replace you because they've all had my father's blood coursing through their veins for 8 years longer than you have. They're ripe, so to speak, but you, you needed help and so we tortured a few witches into devising a spell to help you along. And all that blood we took from you before? They used that to track you and to design a ritual just for you- that's how we found you at that truck stop in the first place. And look at what you did? With only a few of us in the house performing that ritual regularly, you 'saved' us all after the convenience store incident. Our attempted training sessions these past two days were to hopefully help you gain even more control over your abilities but somehow, nothing seems to be working. That's why so many of us are gathered here now; the more of us that perform it together, the stronger you'll become."

"You're all crazy," I whispered to her.

She was directly in front of me now blocking my view of everything else. She suddenly broke into a smile and whispered in my ear, "You asked what I put in your water? Haven't you wondered how you forgot that the Winchesters even existed? That was all me, Alyson. That wonderful coffee that helped with your headaches? That was a little something I had the witches cook up to wipe your stupid family from your naïve little brain. And it worked really well, didn't it? I don't know how your memories of them broke through, but I'll find out and reverse it, even if I have to drill little holes in your head to scrape them out."

I was going to have to process all of this at some point but not now with her standing there in front of me because I didn't want to give the bitch the satisfaction. There wasn't anything I could do about it anyway. So I looked at her and said quietly, "I'd be more careful coming up with elaborate plans where I'm concerned, Meg. Seems to me you've failed enough times for one day. Daddy may not let the witches heal you this time and I'm not sure your street cred amongst all those minions gathered over there can take another hit."

I saw her arm rise as she prepared to slap me but Azazel stayed her hand.

"What have I said about your treading lightly, daughter?" he said to her menacingly, "We're trying a different approach with your sister. This gathering was your idea, Meg, don't make me make an example out of you _yet again."_

Meg nodded silently and backed away from me. He watched her walk back to the front row of demons before he turned to me and whispered in my ear, "I've had enough of your obstinance. All the members of our family will be using the ritual to help you so I'll expect no more excuses. Do you understand me, child? See that you do, because if this takes much longer, I'll have to use fresh blood from the source to improve the potency of the spell. As much blood as it takes….."

"Yes, I…I understand."

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Three hours had passed. I could see the frustration on everyone's faces as they faithfully took part in the enhanced ritual, the chanting now having changed from dutiful to irritated in character. More disturbing was the murderous glares I was getting from Meg. Clearly she was blaming me for screwing up her triumphant return as the prodigal daughter. Honestly, it was making me nervous. Initially, I had rather welcomed the plan to increase the potency of the ritual. _Anything_ that could help me access my telekinetic powers and use them to fight my way out of here, was a plan I could get behind. It'd all been completely useless thus far, even though this time I'd put _real_ effort behind every test they'd given me. I hadn't even managed so much as a twitch. Azazel had gone off to attend to something during the first half hour, leaving me in Meg's capable hands. He'd returned just 10 minutes ago to see my progress and was currently having a quiet argument with Meg. It ended with him grabbing her arm and shaking her violently. He pushed her away from him and stalked towards me.

"You were warned," he said simply, turning away from me slightly and holding out his hand.

Meg walked over to us and put the glinting steel blade in his hand.

"NO!" I screamed, knowing full well what he intended, "Get away from me!"

"It's for your own good, Alyson. Your lack of progress is very grating, and James and Meg are finding it more and more difficult to remind me of your worth."

He slashed both my wrists viciously, the blood immediately pouring into large bowls that Meg had just placed on the ground below me. I cried out with the pain as Azazel kissed my sweaty forehead.

"Everything will be all right now, little Alyson. We'll make it all better soon. You are no longer a Winchester, sweetheart, and I will teach you that by dragging you into fulfilling your purpose, _one red blood cell at a time_ if I have to."

To Meg he said, "Take her blood to the witches. Have them adapt the spell as we discussed. I want this fiasco done within the next hour or everyone in this room will feel my wrath. _Go!"_

Azazel directed James to bandage my wrists, saying that he would have me healed as soon as I earned his forgiveness by demonstrating my powers. They tilted my altar back on its axis and I was once again lying down. I turned my head, seeing the room start to clear. James whispered to me that everyone would be back once the witches had done their work and that I should take the opportunity to rest. With a wave of his hand, he lowered the flames on the wall torches and the cavern was left in near darkness.

I was so exhausted but I really had no time to waste. The blood loss must have been considerable because I felt immediately drowsy, weak and dizzy, even though I was lying down. I closed my eyes, fighting sleep and trying my hardest to calm down. I needed to go Zen if I was going to get a message to anyone who could hear me. I imagined their faces in my mind and hoped to God that they were open to even the weakest of signals, because I was sure I was going to pass out at any minute.

Unsurprisingly, it took almost no effort, the spell and ritual clearly having a positive effect on at least one aspect of my powers. Further analysis of this conundrum would have to wait. I sifted through the most relevant memories in my mind- Azazel and Meg's faces- their true vessels' anyway, the high school Meg attended, this house, the staircase leading to the media room, the door to the dungeons, and all the rooms I'd been in down here. I sent them rapidly and with as much 'force' as I could. I was fairly certain that my body wasn't far away from giving out even if my wonky abilities seemed to be working at the moment. My family had to find me soon. I wasn't sure what was going to happen once the witches' spell and ritual was unleashed but I knew I couldn't give them what they wanted.

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"It's her!" Sam exclaimed suddenly, holding his head.

They were sitting at a motel just outside of Oak Brook going through the blueprints for the Masters' mansion.

"What?" Bobby asked, as the others stopped talking immediately.

Sam's phone rang before he could answer. He looked at the screen and the expression on his face changed.

"Missouri," he answered, "Yes, I got them too. We know where she is and those images just confirmed it. Yeah….yeah I know. We're planning how we're going to do it. No, I couldn't seem to contact her. I'll keep trying too. Okay, I will. Bye."

"What was that, Sam?" John asked.

"Aly is sending images out like the last time. Missouri got them too and she was just checking in with me about it. The problem is, it's like a one-way radio. She can't hear us. From what I saw, we've definitely got the right house and she's in some kind of basement bunker. I think she was trying to show me exactly how to find it..."

Sam paused for a few moments as he tried to find the words.

"…She…she's been hurt. Looks like they've taken blood from her and she's pretty banged up. She seemed desperate- like she's getting weaker. I know we want to do this smart but I…I don't know if she's going to be able to hold on much longer…."

The other three men in the room sat silently contemplating Sam's words. It didn't take John very long to reply.

"We go in tonight," he declared resolutely, looking around at the others.

"John."

"My daughter doesn't spend one more night with those bastards. Not one…."

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"The witches think it might be a self-defense mechanism. I mean, sure she was in danger the other times she manifested but the possibility of escape might have been giving her hope, you know, a _reason_ to fight? If she's convinced she's going to die, she might be trying to hold out for as long as she can. I doubt she believes that we really want her to be one of us but maybe we can provide her with the right kind of motivation..."

"What are you thinking?"

"Come, let me show you."

The footsteps gradually faded and I opened my eyes. I didn't know if that conversation had been staged for my benefit or if they had really thought I was asleep, but it had certainly been informative. Now I was dreading anything these demons deemed a motivating factor. I flexed my limbs slightly against the painful stiffness. I could only hope that my attempts to contact Sam had worked because right now, I didn't have the energy to try it again. It wasn't long before I heard them all approaching and I knew that my hell was about to begin anew. I kept my eyes open, knowing there wasn't any point in pretending otherwise and soon I found Meg's face peering down at mine.

"Ok Rook, I think we've all had enough time to calm down," she said quietly to me, "Our father's patience is almost gone so if I were you, I would wake up to that fact really fast, otherwise I might not be such a vocal advocate the next time you don't perform on cue."

She smiled a little as she paused, and I knew that she was secretly hoping for me to fail. She pulled my hair away from my face and then said, "We've got a few surprises for you. Dad thought you could use some incentive since you've been so stubborn. If they don't work, nothing will, and we know what happens then, right?"

I glared defiantly at her and she chuckled, seemingly genuinely amused.

"Oh Alyson, this is going to be _such_ fun."

She turned towards the now reassembled crowd and motioned to someone at the back while James untied me from the altar and helped me to stand. The other demons were chanting quietly en masse.

I recognized him as soon as they lead him into the room. It was the tall, skinny guy who'd attacked me at the rest stop all those months ago. He looked even more disheveled, if that was even possible, and he was angry. He was spitting out profanities every other word and struggling to get away from the two demons that were keeping hold of him as they dragged him in front of me. They shoved him forward and he fell heavily onto his knees, barely avoiding slamming his chin onto the rock floor.

"Fuck you!" he screamed, as he looked down at his now badly abraded hands.

He sat back and looked around, taking stock of his surroundings.

"What the fuck is going on around…"

He stopped his rant when he caught my eye and then he smiled.

"Well hello there, little bitch!" he taunted, "Woah, looks like someone hit you in the face again. Doesn't it make you wonder why everyone keeps doing that? What's wrong with you?"

I stared at him, trying not to engage, but the self-satisfied look on his face was more than I could take right now. "You know, my last memory of you was hearing you screaming like a dick while you limped away like a dog…so, how've you been, since? Any other little kids you beat up recently? Four year olds with lunch money…?"

"You bitc…!" he tried to rush me, but James kicked him away from me so that he hit the ground flat on his back.

"Ok, enough!" Azazel said, walking up to us from the back of the room with a bored tone, "Be quiet, human!"

The man's eyes widened as he stared at Azazel, raising his hand to his throat when he realized that he could no longer speak.

"Alyson, I've decided that for this to work, we need to meet each other half way. I know you think that we've hurt you in many ways but before all _this_ happened," he said, as his arm swept across the room, "we'd become so close. You, me, Meg- we'd almost become the perfect family unit, hadn't we? No, I can see your look of skepticism but think about it. I've been protecting you and caring for you from the very beginning and you finally, _finally_ turned to me because deep in your heart you could feel the connection we'd made. You condemn _us_ for lying to you, when the Winchesters have been doing the same your whole life. It's not fair to us, not after we've provided you with a better life. But I do understand your reluctance, especially as I've allowed your introduction to the rest of our family these past few days to turn into a farce. I apologise for that, Alyson. Meg and I got carried away. Broken trust cuts deeply, but we will heal…together. And it is in that spirit that I present this gift to you. This man, this heathen who attacked you. I rounded him up the moment he hurt you in anticipation of this very moment. This world is falling apart and it's degenerates like him that make our Father, Lucifer, so upset. When He is freed, He will rid this planet of the noxious dregs of humanity and banish them to an eternity of suffering in Hell where they belong. So, we offer this animal to you as a token of our loyalty and hope that you see this as a first step to rebuilding the trust between us. To be part of us is to know that you are loved by our Father and to bask in the rewards He will bestow upon you. You are mine and we are His. As a powerful, valued family member of our Lord and Master, Lucifer, you _will_ have both justice and retribution."

I was mesmerized by his words. I knew Azazel was counting on his repeated use of the family angle to sway me eventually but this man, this terrible person that would brutally assault a teenager over a $20 bill, made me pause. Azazel was right. This loser _was_ the scum of the earth and he deserved everything these demons had in store for him and more.

"We will do it together, Alyson. We will kill this man together and he will never hurt the innocent again."

I shuffled as a wave of fatigue and nausea hit me. Every time his words started to make sense to me, Azazel reminded me of who and what he actually represented. I was _so_ tired, and as much as I wanted to protest and laugh in his face, I didn't have the energy. When I hadn't responded after a few moments, Azazel's eyes narrowed and he turned to Meg. They shared some kind of unspoken conversation and then he turned back to me.

"Give it to her," he said to one of his minions who was standing off to the side of the dais. She stepped forward, her black eyes gleaming as she forced a gun into my hand. It was so heavy; I tried to let it go, shaking my head as she kept forcing it into my palm.

"I won't do this," I said to her, then turning and repeating it to Azazel, "I won't kill another human being for you, no matter how much of a low-life he is!"

"You are a stubborn child," Azazel chuckled with genuine amusement, "I will remind you about this rebelliousness years from now when you've lived amongst us and learned obedience, Alyson. We will laugh about it together."

"You are so delusional. I don't want any part of this…!"

"Delusional? Oh my child, allow me to show you how wrong you are!"

Suddenly, the demons holding the man let him go and he made a hoarse sound. Azazel had freed him to move and to speak! I swayed weakly, the rush of adrenaline from fear paradoxically draining whatever energy I had left.

He stood up slowly, no doubt waiting for the catch. When he realized that no one was stopping him he smiled broadly and leered at me.

"I knew you wouldn't do nothing, kid!" he laughed, inching closer to me, "How 'bout you give me that gun before you hurt yourself. You're no killer, little girl. I may not know what kind of fucked up cult shit is going on here but I _do_ know that! So just you hand me that there gun and then you assholes can let me out of your clubhouse!"

When I didn't move, he took a step forward and shouted menacingly, "Don't make me have to come over there and take it from you!"

I finally found my voice, "Back away from me, you asshole! Didn't you hear him? They _want_ me to kill you!"

"But you can't do it, can you, little bitch, and I got a much better chance a getting outta here with that gun, so you hand it over right now! I'll give you 5 seconds before I come get it, girl, cause if you make me have to ask again, I won't do it pretty."

I was so tired.

"Please, please don't do this," I said weakly, shuffling backwards a little, an action which made me sway again.

"Come on kid, give Uncle Mac the gun," he said in a tone better reserved for a toddler, as he inched his hand out slowly towards the gun.

He deserved to be shot for that patronizing tone alone, but I screamed 'No' as loudly as I could and tossed the gun over his head, almost into the middle of the chanting demons.

He cried out in rage and lunged for me. I fell to the ground, and put my arms above my head. He got so close that I could practically feel the heat of his body radiating down on me but when I looked up, James was holding Mac by the throat. His eyes bulged as the life was squeezed slowly and painfully from him. I'd found James to be a very complicated enigma over the past few days. He'd mostly remained calm throughout all the crazy and was as close to an ally as I could have amongst this den of vipers. But now the look on his face as he squeezed Mac's neck tighter and tighter reminded me what he was capable of and how alone I really was.

Azazel waved his hand in dismissal and I heard the sickening crack of his spinal column as James let Mac's lifeless body fall to the ground.

"Remove that."

A few demons rushed from the group and hauled him away. Azazel turned to me with a look of disappointment.

"Alyson, I don't know what to do with you. I grow tired of this. Meg believes that we can get through to you but from what I've seen, I'm not so optimistic."

He looked at Meg and nodded and she went out into the crowd and found the gun. I stared at her as she headed back to us. I tried using my powers to knock it out of her hand as I'd done before, afraid that she was going to kill me and be done with it. Nothing happened and I cursed internally. If I couldn't save myself with my own imminent death, then I knew that my telekinetic powers must really be gone. If that was true, then maybe I really hadn't sent out any of those images to Sam. It was only through sheer force of will that I didn't wail out loud at that thought.

James' hand reached down to me and I looked up in time to see his eyes change from pure black to the crystal blue of his meatsuit. He helped me to stand and I flinched. He squeezed my arm briefly, in what I assumed was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. His eyes looked soft as he stared down at me and he steadied me and let me go. Meg walked straight up to James and slapped the gun in his hand.

"Here," she said, "She's going to want to hold on to this."

I didn't have any more time for reflection because soon there was a commotion coming from the throng. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Scott. Creeper Scott. Meg had walked out into the crowd and was leading him up the dais, the fool following like he was on his way up to a podium to accept his high school diploma. I cried out as he walked right up and looked down at me, the shit-eating grin on his face transporting me to that night at the party…his arms touching me, his breath on my skin. I whimpered with the feeling of helplessness and curled in on myself a little.

"Hey, Alyson," he whispered, "I don't know what's happening at this circus but it sure is good to see a familiar face."

I couldn't breathe. He stopped smiling, suddenly looking puzzled like my reaction didn't make sense to him.

Meg walked up behind him and pushed him to the ground, holding him there was one hand as he called her, "Bitch!"

"Alyson," she said, her eyes black as coal and filled with determination, "It's time to end your pointless display of resistance. There is a time and a place for tenacity but this is not it. We've brought this creep to you and you're going to prove once and for all that you have a place here. I'd advise you not to waste the opportunity."

She kicked Scott in the flank and he crumpled onto his side. She came right up to me and hugged me to her, easily suppressing my struggling and whispered right into my ear, "You saw what our father did to me when I failed. He wants you to trust us but his love and protection come at a price. He tests us constantly, as he should because he is preparing us for the return of our Master. That means that we need to be perfect, _I_ need to be perfect. You will kill this scumbag because he deserves it and because I know you have it in you. You showed us after the convenience store that you can kick ass when you want to. Your powers may not be working right but they aren't everything. If you can't do this, you will be as useless to us as you have been to those idiots you called family. Learn from your own history of failures and don't repeat them with us."

She kissed my forehead and I was reminded of the relationship we used to have before my world had crumbled…again. She walked away and left me on the dais to take up a front row seat to the show. As much as I could recognize the manipulation for what it was, I took her words to heart about Azazel. He had demonstrated as much to me over the past few days. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't a killer; it just wasn't in me but…

"Yo, what is up with you bitches?" Scott shouted from the ground, "This is so fucked up…"

He looked up at me with anger in his eyes, a look I'd seen before. I stepped back again. He stopped his rant and smiled slowly as he gauged my reaction and his anger turned into a predatory gleam.

"You know, we never got to finish what we started, Alyson," he stood up and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him.

I looked around frantically. I was alone with him on the dais; everyone was watching from below save for James who stood next to the altar watching us, riveted.

"I don't know how I got here. I remember leaving the hospital after those assholes at the party did a number on me and then I woke up here. Are you a member of some weird cult, little Alyson? The chanting, the black contacts, the altar- are you devil worshippers? Is that what this is? Are you the _virgin sacrifice?"_

He whispered the last two words while holding me plastered to him. The warmth from his breath hit my forehead and I almost threw up from the revulsion and fear. I looked around him at Meg and Azazel. They were just standing there, staring at me and I realized what they were doing. They were forcing my hand.

Scott kept talking in a soft voice to me, as he walked us back towards the altar. I felt it hit my back as he ran his hands down my sides gently.

"You feel so good, Alyson. I remember what it felt like when you were lying beneath me. Your skin was so soft and smooth, just the way I like it. Maybe we can pick up where we left off, huh? Why don't you ask the lead weirdo if I can take you to another room and we can get to know each other better?"

"Get away from me," I mumbled, my body trembling.

"Oh come on, baby," his mouth was pressed to my ear, "I know I can make it good for you."

I shuddered in disgust and began to struggle within his hold.

"Let go of me!"

"We're not going to play this game again, kid," his voice took on a hard edge, "I want you to tell these people that we're going to leave now. It was fun, but I want out of here and you're going to help me. After that, I'll give you the reward you deserve."

His attitude began to anger me. While I stood there, my adrenaline rushing through me, making me shiver in fear, he was ordering me to help him so that he could assault me later. I wondered briefly if he was crazy.

"Get away from me!" I screamed, shoving him away.

Even though I'd caught him off guard, he only took a small step backwards. I saw the anger return to his face and he grabbed me again and shook me violently. I screamed weakly. I'd put what little energy I still had into shoving him and now I felt like I might collapse.

I turned my head to look at James.

 _"Help me,"_ I mouthed to him as he stared keenly at me. He didn't move but he cast his eyes down to the gun in his hand and raised his eyebrows at me. My eyes widened and I glared accusingly at him. He gestured to the gun again as Scott shook me again hoping to return all my attention back to him. I noticed that the demons started chanting again at that moment. They'd been very quiet since Meg had let go of Scott.

"We're getting out of here!" he hissed at me, pulling me behind him as he spun around to face the crowd, "Sorry whackjobs, the kid and I are leaving this little party of yours. We got more important things to do today. I think we can work on the basis of 'don't ask, don't tell' here. I won't ask why you guys roofied and kidnapped me for your costume party, and I won't tell anyone you did it. Now, you all just need to get out of my way…"

"Alyson," James spoke my name softy from my left side. He held the gun out to me.

"Take it, child," Azazel ordered firmly, "You once told me that you wished he was dead. End this stain on humanity's life and prove your gratitude and loyalty. Honor the new resilience and strength you've developed within yourself and attain your justice! You are one of Lucifer's chosen, demand your place amongst your new family and show us your resolve...!"

His words were washing through my brain and my mind was swirling. I swayed on the spot. The chanting was becoming louder and harder to ignore, eventually blocking out all the other wild thoughts in my head. I stared at Scott, who I desperately despised, knowing that he was likely going to hurt someone just as vulnerable as I'd been, again in the future. He was clearly remorseless, smirking as he looked back at me. He thought me weak. He thought me powerless. I wasn't powerless. _I_ was one of the special children. _I_ had abilities that most humans could only dream of and a new family that accepted me for who I was. This thing in front of me, this _virus,_ didn't deserve to breathe the same air, didn't deserve the life that had been wasted on him….

The chanting was becoming deafening. It was like there was no more room in my brain for thoughts of my own. All I had was instinct and I knew just what to do. I took the gun from James; it was heavy but the more that Scott ranted about leaving, the lighter it became. Now it felt like a part of me. The arm that held it was already raised, and I looked at it surprised, not knowing when I had done so. I pointed it at him, this boy that had hurt me, my eyes narrowing in concentration; I didn't want to miss.

Scott looked back at me again. He had just sworn at Azazel, asking if he was tripping on acid and announcing that he and I had had enough. When he saw me, his expression transformed; the smug look was wiped clean from his face and was replaced by utter terror. Oh yes, _now_ he realized who he was dealing with. The chanting had reached a fever pitch and he fell to his knees. I could barely hear what he was saying but I managed to make out a few phrases.

"…sorry I touched you…thought you were playing hard to get...won't tell anyone…don't kill me!"

It was my turn to smile. I cocked the gun. His fear fed my power and it was invigorating. I started to pull the trigger- he closed his eyes and I grinned maliciously. Scott prostrated himself and by chance, I looked past him and saw Meg and Azazel. They were standing there staring at me with the same self-satisfied looks on their faces that Scott had just had. Time slowed, I could feel every 1/16 inch of the trigger move as I realized that something was wrong. What I was doing was wrong! This whole thing was wrong!

The chanting. My head was exploding, the inevitable migraine suddenly blossoming fully so that my eyes watered and my vision blurred. This wasn't me, and they couldn't make me do this. As if fighting my own body, I forced my arm higher and fired into the crowd. I'd been aiming for Azazel but he anticipated my action and the gun shot widely to the left of him, hitting one of his minions in the shoulder.

The chanting stopped immediately and I instantly felt my will return. I was so relieved. I'd almost killed a human being and enjoyed it. I dropped the gun on the ground, leaning over and putting my hands on my knees as I hyperventilated. My time for self-reflection was short-lived. I heard Scott squeal like a pig and I looked up in time to see his body fly across the chamber and slam into the stone wall, the sound of his spine breaking sickening me instantly. I threw up as I saw him slump to the ground like a sack of potatoes. As I stood up, I saw Azazel's hand outstretched in the direction of the body. His eyes blazed as he turned his attention to me and then he practically floated to the dais, grabbing my throat and slamming me against the altar which had suddenly become vertical behind me.

"YOU!" he screamed in my face, his anger practically pulsing through his arm, "You have been a _thorn_ in my _side_ from the time I fed you my blood, you _miserable, pathetic,_ human...I should kill you where you stand! You are a _colossal_ waste of my time and effort, you little cow, but my Father wants you so you _WILL_ do what you're told! While I may keep you alive, I won't make any promises about how many limbs you'll have when you say yes!"

"Say yes to what?" I wheezed, my eyes widening in terror.

"My Father needs a few key things to return to this earth, little Alyson. He needs a worthy vessel capable of binding Him to this mortal plane and He needs the fuel to do so. Now which do you think He needs you for?"

He let go of me and I dropped to my knees, heaving, wheezing and coughing as my lungs burned. He only gave me a few moments before he kicked me onto my side so that he could see my face.

"Answer me!"

"I…I...don't…"

"Of course you don't, you stupid child. Your family hasn't been lying to you, _I_ have. You aren't some teenager who's coming into her own. You are and have _always been_ a useless disappointment. _Now_ , you get a once in a lifetime chance to have your existence really count for something! Naturally, He doesn't want to take on the body of a simpering, pathetic teen-aged girl, but He _does_ like the Winchester genes. Sam Winchester- Sam Winchester is a wonderful specimen. Tall, imposing with just the right amount of boyish charm. For our Lord, it will be like looking in a mirror…."

"What…what…?"

"Isn't it obvious? He needs your soul, Alyson. Your pure, untainted by sin, yet partially demon-tainted soul! By feeding your brother my blood, the blood of my Father, I ensured that Sam's body would accept Lucifer's soul willingly. It seems my instinct to feed you my blood all those years ago was a good one. I could see it then even at 6 months old that you'd never become a hunter- you would remain innocent. While my blood ensures that your soul will recognize Lucifer's, the special abilities that you are hiding from us will give your soul almost unlimited energy. When it is time for Him to return to us, your soul will give Him the power He needs to do so. Of course, the way we'll need to remove it means your body will be obliterated. It'll be like you never existed, Alyson. A little side effect that I'm sure your family will secretly be happy about."

"No…no!" I was stunned by this current set of revelations.

"All we need now is for you to say yes of your own accord. It's an unfortunate little stumbling block written in the laws of Heaven and Hell. You and your brother have to willingly accept your roles…"

"Sam will nev…."

"He will, if he believes we'll let you go if he does. And when he accepts, it will be easy for us to use the rest of your annoying family to make _you_ see reason. Who knows, I might forgo my intention of killing your father outright- _if_ you say yes."

"Please…I don't…you can't…"

"Hush little Alyson, everything will be all right. The witches' new and improved ritual seems to be on track to breaking through whatever resistance you're so foolishly holding on to and once you've become powerful enough, we will begin the rite to bring our Father back. It won't take very long for your brother to fall in line after that."

"Why us?" I managed to get out, despite the overwhelming shock and despair I was currently feeling.

"The Winchesters are _unique,_ " Azazel smiled smugly, like there was a depth of meaning in that one word that he was never going to share with me, "My Father has always known this. He was exceptionally thrilled when I made you one of us and since then, it's always been about you and Sam. The other 'special' children are our guinea pigs; they were made for us to practice with. Once we perfect ripping out and transferring their souls, we'll be ready to use yours. Apart from that, I suppose my brethren and I will have a lifetime to discover what makes you Winchesters tick. Maybe after you're gone, we might experiment on Dean. It may take a millennia, taking him apart molecule by molecule, to find out the full answer to your question. I'll be honest, Alyson, I'll be more than happy to put him back together again just so I can do it over and over…"

"Leave my family alone, you bastard!"

His words were making me angry despite my fear. My brothers and father had no idea what was coming and given how ingrained the concept of family was in our DNA, none of us would hesitate to sacrifice ourselves to save the others.

He dragged me up by the hair and backhanded me so that I crashed into the altar again. I cried out in pain as a number of demons descended upon me, strapping me in place.

"Bleed her again. I want this ritual at maximum potency. I don't care how they manage that, but I want her powers manifesting whether she likes it or not. I am _done_ being civilized about this _any longer!"_

I felt the knives slash through both my wrists simultaneously, as I saw Meg walk up the dais, a grin on her face.

"Oh Rook, I warned Father against being so open with you before this but I have to say, I absolutely _love_ seeing that look of sheer devastation and anguish on your face now that you fully understand how hopeless this situation is. It's _so_ gratifying after months of having to pretending to care about you for that burden to _finally_ be lifted off my shoulders. Whew," she said, pausing to fan herself, "That is such a load off my conscience…"

She stopped to look at me and then laughed.

"Who'm I tryin' to kid? I don't have a conscience!" She leaned forward, then whispered, "Try not to die before you give up your soul."

She sashayed away from me, even as I could feel the life draining from my body. I was so exhausted and defeated, mentally and physically. I couldn't keep my head upright any longer and it lolled forward awkwardly of its own accord. I closed my eyes and prayed for help, prayed for my family, prayed for my soul.

It was a great surprise to me when the resumption of the chanting revived me. Honestly, I had expected never to wake again. I kept my eyes closed as I listened, deciding to at least appear dead. I could hear James and Azazel off to my side, quietly murmuring unintelligibly. I hoped I could just pass out again; I had no desire to witness what other means of torture the demons had in store for me. I had no doubt, of course, that my ruse would only last so long, sure that their inherent cruelty would dictate that I be fully aware of everything else they were going to do to me. I remained motionless, using my hearing to get a sense of what was going on around me. I tried to send more images to Sam but I could tell that nothing had happened; the psychic energy was bubbling under the surface but it felt a corked like a stoppered volcano. It made no sense. Why were my powers regressing even though I knew they were still a part of me? Especially when Azazel's witches were doing everything they could to enhance them?

I spent a few moments pondering this when I heard a rumbling in the crowd. Something was happening. I lifted my head slowly and looked out at them. Some had stopped chanting and were looking out into the antechamber. Soon I could hear it myself, the sound of gunfire particularly loud in the cavernous space.

"What is it?" Azazel's voice boomed above the burgeoning panic.

A random voice replied, "It's the Winchesters!"

Azazel's eyes widened in surprise before they went cold and calculating.

"I want Sam and John Winchester alive. Dispose of the others!" he barked at a number of demons who disappeared through the opening to the room.

"Protect the witches!" Meg screamed to James, who was already hurrying off the dais, "We need them to finish the ritual and for Lucifer's resurrection!"

The anticipation and relief gave me a sudden influx of renewed energy. Oh my God! My father and brothers were coming to get me. I struggled against my bindings as more demons disappeared out of the chamber to take on my family.

"I suppose you're celebrating?" Azazel was suddenly in front of me, his face distorted into extreme hatred, "I may not be able to kill either you or Sam, but by the time I finish punishing you both for this intrusion, you'll wish I had. My _pre_ condolences on the almost loss of your entire family."

His words did nothing to dissuade me, in fact they really, really enlivened me. Now that the chanting had stopped my mind was clearer and I could focus. This second bout of blood-letting had left me weaker than ever but I couldn't afford to pass out again. I had to be ready to move at a moment's notice once they came for me. There was shouting and more rapid gunfire, the cracking, reverberating sounds getting louder. They were close. A number of demons ran back into the chamber, panic on their faces. A few were felled in the entrance and then something like a canister flew past them into the middle of the swarm of demons. It exploded showering the room with…water?

Some of it landed on my face and I inadvertently tasted it wondering why they would…oh, of course, Holy Water! The demons who'd gotten caught in the blast were all writhing in pain, their skin smoking and blistering as they screamed. Two more such canisters sailed into the room drenching everything in their paths. I turned quickly to Azazel and Meg, who unfortunately remained completely unharmed, I noticed.

I looked back out to the crowd with anxious anticipation and then I saw them. First Dean and Bobby, guns blazing as the rushed the chamber. Almost as quickly, I saw Sam and Dad enter, just as Dean went flying back out past them, one of the demons having used their powers to launch him into the air. Tears came to my eyes almost immediately. After so many months, seeing them right there no more than 100 feet in front of me. left me relieved and afraid all at the same time. The chamber had descended into pure, unadulterated chaos. The sound of the bullets ricocheted deafeningly around the chamber. I struggled to get free, adrenaline rushing through me as I tried to keep track of them amidst the confusion and smoke.


	29. Chapter 29

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This is the last chapter to be written by** _ **delacre**_ **\- she will be moving on to different things, as she has started her own fic called "More than You Bargained For". Please check her story out! I'd just like to say a huge Thank You to her for all the advice, friendship, ideas, editing, and writing that she's done with me over the past several months. It's been an amazing journey and I've learned a lot.**

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

There was a lot of screaming as my family advanced into the chamber. I was glad to see that Dean was all right, if a little bruised, as he made his way back from the antechamber, guns in both hands firing at everything that moved.

Dad was caught in a fist fight with Linda who was laughing at him; she kept taunting him about the weakness of his punches, as she just stood there immobile. When she called to him, "My turn," she hit him once and he went flying back into one of the craggy walls. I whimpered when it took a few moments for him to get up and heard Meg laughing behind me. I ignored the sound as I saw Sam come over and shoot her in the head. He helped Dad up and the two of them fought back to back against the next wave of attacking demons. I had yet to make eye contact with any of my family and I didn't want to call out and distract them either. This was a one-shot deal. Practically all of Azazel's followers were here, so they were horribly outnumbered. If any of them was captured or killed at any time, it would be all over.

Meg and Azazel were staying close to me and out of the fray, no doubt expecting their minions to be triumphant without their intervention. I stopped for a moment to follow Azazel's line of sight. He seemed to only have eyes for Sam, his face filled with a sickening mixture of awe and pride. I guess seeing the future Lucifer in the flesh was like a fangirl moment for him. I shook my head in disgust and kept struggling. Two of the demons rushed at Sam and knocked him over. He hit the back of his head hard and was clearly dazed. Blood quickly pooled below him and Dad called his name in obvious alarm. Azazel shouted in a strange language, his arm outstretched towards the two demons and immediately, black smoke rushed out of their mouths and their vessels fell to the ground. After that, the other demons gave Sam a wide berth; a huge advantage for us. He managed to get up eventually and went over to help Dean who was being beaten to a pulp by a trio of demons which included Rosa. They pushed Sam away with their powers, all the way to the other side of the chamber and resumed their attack on Dean.

Sam looked simultaneously surprised and pissed off about it; I think he was annoyed at being treated with kid gloves especially as it was unlikely that he had any idea why they would so. He rushed over again, shooting two of the three in the head, including Rosa, even as he was running back to get to Dean. What he did next caused even Meg to gasp. Sam slowed his run to a walk, his right hand stretched towards the remaining demon and, with a look of extreme concentration, froze the demon in place when he was about to kick Dean. Sam spun the meatsuit's body around so that they faced each other and then threw him across the room. The demon hit the roof and then the back wall as he fell in a heap. Sam's nose started to bleed and he wiped it away as he ran over to help Dean up

"Sam?" Dean asked uncertainly.

"You wanted to know what I've been doing with Missouri," Sam answered grimly, "I decided to take your advice and become a better Carrie."

"Next time, Sam," Dean said, as he broke out into a huge smug grin, "Lead with that!"

"Aly!" I heard Dad's voice, and I quickly looked over to him.

He and Bobby had just felled a couple more of the minions and it seemed he had finally seen me through all the chaos. He caught my eye and offered me a brief smile before turning his attention back to the fighting.

"Daddy!" I called, immediately beginning to cry. It had been so long since I'd talked to any of them in person-all the anticipation, worry and exhaustion seemed to hit me all at once. I couldn't believe how close they were and yet how impossible this all seemed.

"Are you okay, Aly?" Sam called to me, as he used his powers to toss aside five demons at once. Dean actually had to duck as one of them went sailing over his head.

"Sam," I screamed, "Oh God, Sam…"

"It's okay, baby, we're going to get you out of here!" That was Dean, shooting another two demons that had rushed towards him.

I saw Bobby slam into the wall behind him, his face contorting in pain as he hit the ground. The demon hitting him cackled maniacally, clearly enjoying himself. He taunted Bobby and his 'old, decrepit body', kicking the gun from his hand and proceeding to kick him in the stomach repeatedly.

"Bobby!" I cried, deciding that the least I could do now was use my vantage point to our side's advantage.

Dean rushed over towards him but his path was cut off by James, who slammed his hand into Dean's chest as he charged forward. I heard bone crack as Dean dropped to his knees and doubled over immediately, holding onto his chest and wheezing.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, trying to push past demons who had surrounded him, "DEAN!"

Dad was closer and he moved swiftly to Dean's side, shooting at James as he went.

James reared back with every shot but never fell; he seemed to get angrier with each one and he actually growled as he stepped forward to go after Dad. I sucked in my breath and then I screamed for James to leave them alone. He kept moving and then I saw his head chopped clean off. Bobby was standing behind him, a large machete in his hand as he breathed raggedly. Meg shouted in anger behind me but was held back by Azazel. I turned back to see Sam finally break free from the wall of demons as he hurtled forward to get to the others. There was a small break as both sides regrouped. I could see from the looks on their faces that we were all reaching the same conclusion simultaneously.

The problem was that even though the bullets they were using were very damaging to the demons- especially if they were shot in the head or the heart- they weren't powerful enough to kill them outright. Demons wounded in the arm or leg, for example, were back up and ready to fight after only a few minutes; the head or the heart, maybe 10 minutes at most. At this rate, the battle was going to go on and on until they ran out of ammo or their mortal bodies gave out. And even then, Meg and Azazel had yet to get involved and Azazel was obviously a higher, more powerful class of demon.

As if he heard my thoughts, Azazel came up beside me with Meg following closely behind.

"Winchesters!" he said, sounding rather amused, "You've been so very entertaining and I suppose I could award you an 'A' for your efforts thus far. It's always funny to see just how stupidly suicidal humans can become in the name of family but now, alas, you're beginning to bore me and I have more important things to do."

Everyone stopped moving. I sobbed a little at the sight of my Dad and Bobby- bruised, tired, but still determined, and of Dean, wanting to fight but looking pale and shaky while coughing up blood. I knew what was going to happen- the monster next to me was going to kill them in front of me for sport – all except Sam, of course. My brother would literally become the Devil here on earth and I would live just long enough to see it happen.

Azazel smiled at me as he walked towards them. The demons parted in his wake and he cast Bobby aside viciously as he stood in front of my Dad. Dean looked over at him like he was seriously contemplating throwing all common sense to the wind and trying to shoot him. Dean happened to glance at me and I shook my head to dissuade him, continuing to tug halfheartedly at my bonds. No…..NO! Azazel was about to kill them and I knew he would enjoy making me watch every agonizing second. And the whole thing would be my fault. Azazel grinned arrogantly as he had two of his demons keep my father upright and immobile.

"John Winchester, sometimes worthy adversary, most times pain in my ass," he drawled as he stood right in front of him, "So nice to finally meet you properly, face to face. It's been... _years_ since I… filleted your wife and made your daughter one of my own. Even longer, of course, since I met little Sammy…"

He spun around to look at Sam who had adopted a defensive stance.

Azazel waved his hand and Sam flew towards the dais, falling to the ground beside me and cursing angrily when he realized he was unable to move anymore.

"Sam!" I shouted, tears rolling down my cheeks as I looked down at him.  
"Shut up, Alyson," Meg slapped the back of my head none too gently, "It's time for the grown-ups to talk."  
"Leave her alone, you evil fucking bitch," Sam shouted, pure rage in his voice as he struggled to move in his invisible bonds.  
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" she replied, sneering down at him, "Oh, I forgot... You _don't!_ You get _one_ cheap shot at me, 'Samifer', just one. After that, we'll see how much you'll like it when I rip out your tongue…!"  
"Calm down, Meg. Sam is a Winchester. They're too filled with bravado to recognize absolute defeat when it's thrust upon them…!" Azazel mock-scolded Meg, who grinned back at him.  
 _"Samifer?"_ Dad cut in, looking uneasy.  
Azazel turned to him, "Yes, John, 'Samifer'. Interesting. It was only a few hours ago that I was accusing you of gross negligence, both as a father and as a hunter, for leaving your precious little girl vulnerable without the information to help her protect herself. _Anyone_ could've come along and snatched her up at any time. It was a good thing _we_ found her and brought her into the fold like we did. The world out there is _very_ dangerous…..!"  
"Fuck you!" Dean wheezed from the ground.  
Azazel rolled his eyes at the interruption and turned to stare down condescendingly at Dean.  
"Children should be seen and not heard, Dean Winchester. Is that a lung contusion and cracked rib I hear in that croaking voice of yours? Perhaps you should consider saving your breath before I make you drown in your own blood."  
"Leave my children alone!" Dad piped in, obviously trying to turn Azazel's attention away from Dean "It's me you want!"  
Azazel wasn't fooled. "Actually Corporal, Dean and Bobby are just my appetizers this evening. You're my dessert."  
He stepped forward and put his mouth to Dad's ear, stage whispering, "I'm going to let my demons play with the hillbilly for _hours_ before they kill him, and then I'm going to gut and burn Dean while you watch. But the real fun, the _entrée,_ if you will, is going to be when you see Lucifer rise using the power of your daughter's pure soul and take over the body of your darling boy, Sam…."  
"What….what are you saying?" Dad asked in a tremulous voice.  
"Samifer…," Dean whispered in understanding, the facetious word almost too terrible to repeat aloud.  
"…He's a _fine_ specimen, John, Sam'll make a wonderful vessel for Our Lord. And then, you'll look into your baby boy's green eyes and the last thing you'll ever see, is the stranger that killed you."  
Azazel smiled, thoroughly pleased with himself. "Now, Winchester," he said, almost cheerfully, "Where is The Colt?"  
"I don't…"

Azazel reached out and twisted Dad's right arm. Dad bellowed with pain as we all heard the snap of tendons and then his arm hung loosely at his side.

"You incredible bastard..."

"…The Colt, Winchester!" Azazel ignored Dean's outburst.

"I…I don't have it!"

"What…what are you saying?"

There was another snap and Dad fell, his right leg twisted at an unnatural angle. He gasped, his face going white with pain.

"All right, I think you may need a little more motivation to help loosen your tongue." Azazel said to Dad. He turned his head to the demons who were standing around my family. "Start on Mr. Singer. You can be creative when you search and extract information from him on The Colt's whereabouts. Get Dean up on his feet. I think Meg would love to see what his intestines look like first hand."

He turned back to her and said, "You can save some for John to eat later if he gets hungry, unless he'd like to tell me where the gun is?"

Meg laughed with genuine excitement and I saw Dad's eyes widen with fear as he looked at Dean. Sam kept struggling half-heartedly but I could see tears in his eyes. Bobby was still immobile on the ground when they went to gather him up and I had a terrible stray thought that if there truly was a God, he would make sure that Bobby never regained conscious ever again.

Time seemed to stand still then. Meg left the dais with a swagger in her step, approaching Dean with a large knife. Demons stood him up and he struggled and swore at her as she came to stand in front of him, the defeat in his eyes plainly evident. There was no way we were going find a way out of this, no way for me to ever be able to atone for what I had done to all of us…

And then like an old home movie from the 1960s, I saw flashes of my life... like the time I was 7 years old and I'd just found out the truth about the 'family business'. Dean had been there, comforting me the whole time and letting me snuggle with him that night on one of the most singularly confusing and scary moments of my life...

...The time we'd been at Pastor Jim's and Dad had been hurt after a hunt. I'd been so afraid when no one would let me see him. I'd gotten into so much trouble every time I'd tried, but when his situation had become more dire, I'd been so terrified that I'd disobeyed everyone and ended up sleeping in his room. When he'd woken up, he'd let me stay with him, no doubt realizing how much I needed the reassurance that he'd be all right...

...Then I saw Sam. Sam who'd been taking care of me for as long as I could remember, who thought I was really smart and funny, who understood every rebellion, every resentment and every self-doubt I'd ever had because most times, they reflected his own…

I looked at him now; his eyes were closed, and I knew he was bracing himself against the coming atrocity. I whimpered and he immediately looked to me, regret and love in his eyes as he tried to be my rock once again. My brother's handsome, expressive, kind face that would soon become the face of Lucifer.

No.

My eyes turned to look at the cruel anticipation on Meg's face…

 _No._

…and the soft chuckling of Azazel, getting everything he'd ever wanted at the expense of my family.

 _ **NO!**_

It started in my toes and traveled up to the top of my head in seconds. The pain washed through every neuron and I screamed as my body tried to contain the raw energy and power that was threatening to consume me. I broke out of the bonds of the altar. In fact, I broke the altar itself, and suddenly I was free. Looking down at myself, I could see that I was glowing- a bright white light emanating from every pore.

I could hear the crackling in the air as I practically glided off the dais, the absolute all-consuming fury within me beginning to bubble over as I looked at Meg and Azazel.

Instead, I turned to the demons who had been about to take Bobby away. I bared my teeth at them, my arm reaching out and blasting all 5 of them away simultaneously. Their vessels flew out in all directions, slamming into the walls clear across the chamber with impacts so severe that their spines broke. Instinctively, I knew what to do. I twisted my hand and willed those 5 to go back to the Hell they'd come from. The subsequent black smoke of their wretched souls swirled and eddied above us all before flying out through the antechamber.

Everyone in the room had stopped to stare in shock. Azazel stared and I could see the tiniest bit of uncertainty creep into his face. It was gone quickly as he ordered his demons to attack me. I paid no attention to them as my arm reached out to the ones who held Dean. I tossed them aside as easily as ragdolls, including Meg who went flying towards Azazel. He stopped her trajectory before she could crash into him but she still fell hard onto the ground, her loud groaning filling me with a deep satisfaction.

"Oh Alyson," he said, "You are _magnificent._ Your sacrifice for our Lord will long be revered!"

"And after I wipe _you_ off the face of the earth, I'll forget you ever _existed!"_ My voice was hoarse and deep and almost unrecognizable to me, as if every negative pain and thought and feeling I'd ever had towards this creature had collided and melded within me, changing my very core.

He looked uncertainly at me and took a step back as I threw up my hand towards him, not content to simply exorcise him but intending to extinguish every malevolent molecule of his being, but I was suddenly thrown off my feet by the telekinetic power of at least 10 approaching demons. I landed hard on my back, bumping my head on the edge of the dais as I fell.

I could still feel the power surging through me but it had been greatly diminished. My two displays of strength seemed to have depleted me somewhat and clearly I was not immune to others' psychic powers. Inwardly, I cursed myself for not having gone after Azazel first. If I was spent, he would quickly regain the upper hand and we'd still be doomed. At least 4 of the demons held me down as I started to panic, struggling to sit up when I heard Sam's roar of anger. He'd somehow gotten loose from Azazel's hold and using his abilities, began tossing them away from me. Dean had managed to get to Dad who was pale and sweaty. Bobby, having finally roused, had crawled over to join him.

Azazel barely spared a glance as he sent Sam flying. His attention was squarely cast on me. Meg finally got up, her eyes blazing with hatred as she turned to stare me down.

"I'm going to make you bleed, bitch!" she screamed.

Her hostility fed me; I tossed away the remaining demons that surrounded me, sending them hurtling towards Azazel and Meg and, in the confusion, following them up immediately with a blast of energy towards both of them. Meg flew backwards again, but Azazel was only pushed back a few steps. The effort all but drained me but I didn't let on. He couldn't know that at any minute, I might just collapse.

His eyes widened in obvious shock. He stared at me assessingly and I grinned at him, deciding to hedge my bets. He looked around to his horde, still well over 50 strong and then over at Sam who had just stopped 3 demons who'd tried to subdue him.

"Be careful what you wish for, right Azazel!" I said to him with a confidence I didn't feel, "Thanks for all that extra power but you might want to make up a good excuse 'cause I don't think Grandpa Lucifer's the type to take failure well."

His eyes narrowed and when I took a threatening step forward, he actually flinched. It happened quickly then. Meg, her meatsuit looking exceptionally battered, had made her way back to Azazel's side. He looked at me one more time and turned to her.

"Meg," he said in an authoritative voice, "We may have underestimated the effects of the witches' ritual. I will go ahead of you and find the Talley boy in Afghanistan. You and the rest of our brethren will stay here and deal with the Winchesters. Meet me when you're done."

Meg looked at him in shock and nodded absently. Oh my God, was the coward cutting his losses and running? I scoffed in disbelief as he turned to the entrance way.

"Hey Yellow-Eyes!" I heard Dean call towards his retreating figure.

Azazel halted and spun around.

"Just _die_ you son-of-a-bitch!"

The sound of the gun firing was different to that of any other gun I'd ever heard. It was deafening in the chamber and the blast reverberated several times. I saw the bullet move in slow motion as it traveled the short distance between my father's trembling hand and the middle of Azazel's chest. He staggered backwards and stared down at himself, and then back at Dad, his face the very picture of stunned disbelief. The thick black smoke I associated with the demon inside him flew in and out of his mouth rapidly, as if it didn't know what to do or where to go. Then his whole body lit up and I swore I could see echoes of his true monstrous face in the flashes of light that engulfed him. Then it all just stopped and he dropped in a heap, dead.

Finally, DEAD! _**DEAD!**_

My Dad collapsed back on Dean, who was sitting behind him, propping him upright with Bobby's help. I looked around at the other demons. They were clearly horrified as was Meg, who let out an inhuman cry of despair. I looked at Sam who was staring back at me. He could tell that I was done so he squared his shoulders preparing himself for the next round. Meg spun towards towards Dad, the knife she'd been planning on using on Dean suddenly in her hand.

"Demon!"

We all turned at the guttural male voice which had come from behind me, and Meg stopped in her tracks. He stared at the occupants in the chamber, a tall brown haired man in a tan trench coat. We all stood still for a moment, each side wondering what new threat he represented. It was Meg who spoke first.

"I'm a little busy, 'Columbo', give me 30 seconds and I'll be ready to kill you too!"

"I'm not a Columbo," he said, gently pulling me beside him, and out of her line of sight. His touch caused a tingle to rise all the way up my back and I shivered a little at the feeling.

Dean stood up and Sam straightened, instantly on alert because of this new player.

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

Meg scoffed in derision, "Uh yeah, right!"

He stared at her for a second and then said, "You are a faithless creature, but even your kind knows that we exist. Lucifer was one of us."

I gasped when he offered the proof of his words- wings, black shadowed wings, extended from his body as a bright flash of light and the sound of thunder erupted. They refolded out of sight after a moment and Castiel took another step forward.

"You will not hurt this family anymore, demon. None of you will."

He reached out his hand and immediately exorcized the first 20 demons to his right side. The remaining few began to panic. Some looked like they wanted to run, the others like they wanted to take their chances standing their ground. He reached out his hand to the left and another 10 were felled. That led to instant chaos. The remaining demons seemingly decided simultaneously that they were well outclassed and it was time to cut their losses. Castiel was faster than they were though, and another 5 were exorcised.

I looked to Meg who was standing almost stock still, looking terrified and uncertain. She caught my eye as she frantically looked for a means of escape. A mix of emotions- hatred, fear, defeat and regret flitted across her face at first but then she stood up straight and glared at me. Her mouth opened and the black smoke poured quickly out of her meatsuit and flew out of the chamber.

"Damn it!" Bobby muttered as he looked over at her fallen vessel, "We shouldn't have let her get away."

"I don't think we had much choice, Bobby," Sam said, casting a wary glance over at Castiel, who dispatched the remaining demons.

"Aly, sweetheart, come over here." Dean's voice was amazingly quiet and controlled and I knew he was worried about how close I was to the angel.

"She has nothing to fear from me, Dean Winchester."

Castiel looked down at me and then back at Dean whose eyes had narrowed.

"It's okay, Dean, he won't hurt me," I replied tiredly, barely able to hold myself up now.

"Aly…"

"It was you wasn't it?" I whispered to Castiel, "You were the one blocking my powers."

"Yes, Alyson Winchester," he nodded, "Your powers were indeed strong enough to be used by Azazel, and we could not allow him to complete his mission."

"I knew it when you pushed me aside earlier. Your touch…I've felt that…energy before, in the past few days. I prayed…."

"I am sorry I could not come sooner. Azazel has been Lucifer's soldier for millennia. His knowledge of how to physically ward against us was sound, but he did not count on the problem of having a Winchester as his weapon."

"And what exactly is that problem?" Dean wheezed a little, eyebrows raised in skepticism.

Sam decided he didn't care about Castiel's assurances and came over to pull me away. He kissed the top of my head and held me so tightly I couldn't breathe for a moment. The familiar softness and warmth of his flannel shirt brought tears to my eyes. Then he bent down to look into my eyes and I could see nothing but relief and love on his face. Not anger, not judgement, not resentment.

"Alybug," he murmured quietly, wiping a tear off of my cheek with his thumb.

The angel began to speak. "The powers that Alyson-"

I heard footsteps running into the room, and saw movement from the corner of my eye and the glint of the knife as it plunged into my father's chest up to the hilt. A demon stood there, panting and glaring at us.

"Daddy!" I screamed, stumbling out of Sam's hold in an attempt to go to my father. This couldn't happen now- not when I was so close to having them back! Not when all I wanted to do was beg for their forgiveness and to know the feeling of genuine love again.

Dean lunged at the demon who was exorcized promptly by the angel. The demon's meatsuit fell on the floor, dead.

Sam had quickly caught me up in a protective embrace, no doubt worried about another unexpected attack. It was a good thing too, because I felt like I would fall over at any minute.

"I am sorry," Castiel said to Dean, "I must have missed one."

Dean glanced around. "He must've been hiding in the back room, we should check the rest-"

"Dean," Bobby interrupted, "We need to get John to a hospital. He's already lost too much blood and his breathing…Dean, I don't think he's going to make it."

Giving Castiel a look of distrust, Dean rushed to kneel at Dad's side, putting pressure on the wound as Bobby pulled the knife out. Dad coughed weakly as Dean pulled off his jacket and bunched it up to put under Dad's head.

"Come on, Dad," Dean's voice couldn't quite hide the hint of terror within it, "Stay with me, Dad, we just got her back. Look, Aly's here, you gotta be strong for her! Hold on, I got you. Dad…!"

I swayed in Sam's arms, my vision darkening from the edges, inward.

NO! Not when we were this close, not…

"Aly?"

Was that Sam calling my name? Then I was falling and the world turned black.


	30. Chapter 30

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dear Readers, this is the last chapter of this story, written by yours truly. Please join me for the sequel, "Winchester, Interrupted: The Further Adventures of Alyson Winchester". Thank you for being with me on this amazing journey; when I first started this fic last year I had no idea where it would go or how long it would go on for (30 chapters!). Thank you to all of you who read, review, favorite, and follow my stories. It means a lot to me and I love hearing from you. I hope you join me in the next part of Aly's journey with her family!**

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Sam caught Aly in his arms as she fell, eyes rolling up into the back of her head.

"Aly? Aly!" He looked down at her, and brushed her hair off of her face. He picked her up and held her in his arms like she was a baby, and then looked at the angel.

"Just who are you, really?" he asked calmly.

"And what the hell did you mean, the Winchesters are a problem?" Dean growled, glowering from his place on the floor next to John.

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord," he repeated, stepping towards Dean. Dean hunched protectively over his father, looking up at Castiel with suspicion on his face.

"All will be explained, first I must heal everyone- John Winchester's death is imminent."

He leaned down and extended his hand towards John.

"Wait just a damned minute!" Dean yelled, as Castiel touched John's forehead with two fingers. Nothing seemed to happen for a long moment, and then Castiel straightened up. John opened his eyes and then sat up with a deep breath and began coughing.

"Oh, my God," he said. "My arm, my leg- what happened?"

He looked at Dean, and then up at Castiel. "Did you do this?" He flexed his arm.

"Yes, John Winchester, I have healed your physical injuries. I can do the same for the rest of you." Castiel said in a gravelly voice, turning to gesture at everyone.

John stood, helping Dean up off the floor.

"Please, heal Aly next," Sam asked, his voice shaking.

Castiel approached, taking Aly's pale face in his hand, concentrating for a long moment. "Complex..." he told them, tilting his head. "Her body can be easily fixed, yes...but her soul...must heal on its own."

"Her...soul?" Sam looked at the angel, a confused frown on his face.

"Yes, Sam Winchester." Castiel stepped forward and then put two fingers on Aly's forehead for a few seconds.

He removed his hand and turned to address the men. "Her soul is very powerful. Azazel intended to use it to resurrect Lucifer. Instead, Alyson released that tremendous energy defending you all. Her soul...her life-force has been depleted. It will take time to be replenished."

"How much time?" Dean asked, stepping forward.

"That is a mystery, Dean Winchester," Castiel said. "She had no control over her powers. My brethren in Heaven were blocking them so that Azazel would not be able to use her." He gestured to Aly.  
"Then how did she do what she did?" Dean demanded, scowling at the angel. "And stop saying 'Winchester', we all know our damned name!"  
Castiel looked at him, and then at each of the other men in turn as he spoke. "We do not know, as we were not able to discern how powerful she would become. We will keep her abilities blocked. Others will be after her."

"I will heal you all now," he said, stepping over to Dean first. "Dean-"

Dean shied away for a moment, still suspicious. Then angel placed two fingers on his forehead, and Dean felt a warmth flow through his body, and then: no pain. The angel moved over to Bobby and did the same thing, and Dean helped Bobby to a standing position.

"Let me take her." John stood in front of Sam, and held his arms out for Aly. Sam transferred his sister into his father's arms, and John held Aly close, kissing the top of her head and reveling in the fact that he had finally, _finally_ , gotten his baby girl back.

Sam stood, motionless, as Castiel walked up and put two fingers on his forehead.  
After a moment, the angel stepped back.

He looked at all of them again, and then spoke to Sam, "There are many who will seek to use your powers, so go now, you must find somewhere that is protected and warded."  
"We have a place like that," John told him.  
"When Alyson awakens, she will need to learn how to ward herself from demons. You would do well to learn that with her, Sam." Castiel's blue eyes connected with Sam again. "You have been working on learning control, but there is much more you can learn."  
"I will," Sam said.  
"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Dean demanded. "I want some more answers. How long is she gonna be out? How are these powers going to affect her? Are they coming after her right away?"  
"I cannot tell you that, as I do not know - I am sorry." Castiel said. "You must get her to the safe place as soon as possible. I will be... near... as well."  
"But-"  
Castiel tilted his head, not understanding Dean's agitation. "Dean, your sister's recuperation depends on her. We have no control over her soul, only over the powers that reside within her."  
"Oh, so you're an 'Angel of the Lord' who can zap demons, heal bodies, and clamp down on her 'special powers', but you can't do anything to help heal her- her soul?" Dean demanded.  
"I have healed what I can with her. We, as angels, are limited as to what we can do with human being's souls- and we cannot restore a diminished life force."  
"That sounds like a bullshit excuse if I ever heard one!" Dean retorted.

"Dean," Sam stepped up to him and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "He doesn't control everything. He's telling us he's done what he can."

"Yeah, well, it's ain't enough! We've got Aly over there unconscious, and we have no idea if she's ever going to—to-" Dean's voice broke, and he put his hand up to cover his eyes for a moment. They all contemplated his fear that she might never wake up.

"She _will_ recover," Castiel said. "We just cannot predict when."

"Well thanks for nothing!" Dean shouted from behind his hand, and Sam pulled his brother into a hug.

"Dean," John said in a warning tone. He looked at Castiel. "Thank you for healing everyone and all the...work you did here. You saved our lives."

"I am fulfilling the duty that was placed on me, to guard the Winchesters. Now, I must go. I have rid the house and property of the remaining demons, so you will not be harmed as you leave."

There was a clap of thunder, and in a flash of light, they saw the angels' wings expand out behind him. Then a loud sound of flapping, and another flash, and the angel was gone.

The four men looked at each other, the adreneline rush finally fading, and feeling the exhaustion that was taking over. They had done it; they had finally found and rescued Aly. It was time to take her away from all this.

"Team Winchester needs to get the hell out of Dodge," Dean said, wiping his eyes. "Let's hit the road."

The men wasted no time finding their way out of the sub-basement, and then out of the house and to their cars.

Dean handed Sam the keys to the Impala and turned to John. "I'll take her," he said. "I'll stay with her in the back and keep an eye on her."

Sam went to the trunk and got out a blanket, and then helped Dean arrange it around their sister once Dean was in the back seat with Aly's head cradled in his arms.

"You okay?" Sam asked Dean, and Dean looked at him. "Yeah, I got my baby sister back, I'm good." He offered Sam a small smile, and Sam closed the door.

The Winchesters and Bobby drove through the night, sharing driving duties and stopping to refuel their vehicles, and themselves with coffee. John and Dean both looked down on all of those "fancy coffeehouse drinks" with all the added flavorings and whatnot, preferring instead just strong black coffe, but in this situation, Dean bought a few espressos and knocked them back, so that he could stay awake on the road.

Whoever was not driving sat in the back with Aly's head cradled in their lap. They had all seen the angel heal her, and yet she hadn't woken or stirred once since she had fainted. Her breathing was deep and regular, and her pulse was strong, which gave them hope that her unconsciousness was a reaction to all of the stress and trauma and not because of some deeper underlying issue.

They reached Calvin's compound some 16 hours later, having driven straight through, and even though everyone had enough caffeine running through their veins to power a small country, after they had all showered the blood and dirt off, they fell into beds and slept deeply for several hours.

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Dean stumbled out of the bedroom, down the hall into the kitchen, where he poured himself a cup of coffee. From the taste, it wasn't too old. He went down the hallway of the medical wing, remembering the last time they had been here, and thinking about how different things were now. They had all been through so much since then.

The door to the room that Aly had been in previously before was open, and he could hear voices. When he went into the room, his Dad, Bobby, and Calvin all turned to look at him. They were standing by a hospital bed that held his sister. She was still asleep, and now she was hooked up to all kinds of tubes and wires.

"Is- is she-" Dean asked hesitantly.

"For all intents and purposes, she's in perfect health." Calvin said. "She just ain't wakin' up."

"Oh God," Dean said, and he felt relieved that she was finally here, in the same room with them, and scared that whatever had happened to her had been so traumatic that she had fallen into this whatever-it-was and would never come out of it. He went over to his Dad, and they hugged tightly for a long moment. When Dean pulled back, John had tears in his eyes.

"We got her, Dad," Dean said with relief. "We got her back, she's safe now."

"I know, son," John said, his voice husky with emotion. "I just want to make sure that all of her is going to be okay."

"We'll figure it out," Bobby said. "Hopefully Missouri will call back today."

Dean walked over to the bed and looked down at Aly, then bent down and kissed her forehead. He turned back to the men, and asked,"Where's Sam?"

"Still sleeping, I guess. I figure that using his powers probably got to him, and tired him out too." John said.

"I'm guessing that y'all are gonna want to do round-the-clock watch on Aly, we should see about getting some chairs and a cot or somethin' in here," Calvin said.

They busied themselves for a while with this task, bringing in a small table and t.v. set, and armchair, a couple of metal chairs with padded seats, and then a cot in the corner for someone to sleep on. There was already a long padded bench and a small table in the room, and they had to re-arrange things a couple of times to make it all fit. All of them kept an eye on Aly, to see if the noise disturbed her, and once or twice the bed got bumped, but she never roused.

John took the first watch, pulling one of the folding chairs over close to the bed, and taking Aly's hand in both of his. He pressed it to his lips, and then placed their hands on the bed and sat, watching her sleep.

John didn't know how long it had been, but Sam appeared in the doorway, holding two large steaming mugs of coffee.

"Brought you a refill," Sam said as he came into the room.

John straightened up, stretching his back, and yawning.

"Thanks, Sammy." He accepted the mug from Sam, and Sam walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled the other metal chair over. He sat down and took a sip of coffee.

"Anything?" he asked.

John shook his head silently. Sam sighed, and looked at Aly. He reached out to smooth her hair off of her forehead.

"She looks so...so young," he commented.

"She is young," John agreed. "Too young for all of... this to have happened to her."

He took a drink of coffee and cupped his hands around the mug. "Sam, I have to ask...with your powers...do you think you can—reach her? I mean, you said that the two of you had some sort of link before, right? And then it stopped or something? Maybe it was the angels blocking it along with her powers. Could you-" John hesitated. "Do you think you could try and reach her now? Try and, I don't know, get in her mind and see what's going on, or find out if she's okay?"

"I can try," Sam said.

"And it's not going to...hurt you, or wear you out again, or hurt her?" John asked with concern. "I don't want either of you getting hurt any more."

"It won't hurt me, no, and it shouldn't hurt her. I should talk to Missouri about it," Sam said. "I'll call her today, let her know what's going on."

"She probably already knows," John said, and they both chuckled.

Sam set his mug on the floor next to the bed and stood up. He sat on the bed facing Aly, and took her hands in his. He bowed his head, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clearing his mind like Missouri had taught him. He reached out- imagining Aly, although this time was different, because she was right here and not miles away from him- but there was nothing. He sifted through memories of her, of them together, and tried sending images to her: him pushing her on a swing at a playground when she was small, the two of them walking in the forest together when Dad was training him and Dean, sitting with her in bed when she had been young and had had a nightmare. He got no response.

He sighed, and let go of her hands.

"Sorry, Dad," Sam said regretfully, sitting back down in the chair by the bed and picking up his coffee. He felt like he had failed his father at that moment.

"It's all right, Sammy, you tried." John gave him a tired smile. "That's all you can do right now is try, right? And let time do the rest."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"Okay, Dean."

Aly said this to him often, in reply to him, or to show him her acquiescence, or to mollify him. When she was a toddler it was adorable because it was " 'kay, De", usually followed by a big grin. Back then she had wanted nothing more than to please him, to please all of them. She said it when he told her what to do. She said it with tears in her eyes when he scolded her or after he had punished her. She said it when she was falling asleep on the sofa and he told her to go to bed.

As she got older, she got more of an attitude and their father insisted she say 'yes sir' and 'no sir' and then most of the time she would say that to him, especially when he was upset with her or she was in trouble. He missed how agreeable she had been when she was little, when all he had to do to make her smile was with a tickle, and all he had to do to make her feel better was buy her a chocolate bar.

Sitting by the hospital bed looking down at her now, Dean wished that all it would take to make things right was a bar of chocolate. His baby sister lay in the bed with all kinds of tubes and wires attached to various parts of her body. Her skin was pale and her face slack in unconciousness.

For all intents and purposes, Aly was fine, after she had been healed by the angel. Once she had lost consciousness during the rescue, she hadn't woken up at all. They didn't really know why, and they would have to wait to find out what happened to her.

When they had gone through the house, searching for a way to get into the sub-basement, they had walked through the kitchen and seen some photographs on the refrigerator- Aly posing and smiling with a teenage girl and an older man. Aly and the girl wearing maxi-dresses with their faces made up so that they both looked older, Aly in a bathing suit laying by a pool, with a fancy drink in her hand. Aly and the older man in an old-style Porsche, her sitting behind the wheel, big smiles on both their faces. It seemed that Aly had been living with this man and his daughter for a while before all hell broke loose.

It made Dean wonder what had happened to her. From looking at the pictures it looked like she was happy, and he wondered if she had spent sleepless nights agonizing over them, the same way he had spent time worrying over her. He felt an irrational anger at her, and remembered feeling the same way towards Sam when they had finally found him in Flagstaff. All the heartache that _he_ had gone through, how _dare_ Sam be enjoying himself, living off of Dr. Pepper and Funyuns, with no curfew or training or weapons maintenence to do, no John Winchester to answer to.

He felt the same way towards Aly now, how dare she lay by a pool with a strawberry daquiri and learn how to drive, how to _drive_ for Christ's sake, when she was only 14! Yes, their Dad had taught _him_ to drive when he was only 12, but that had been for necessity's sake, in case John got injured while on a hunt. And be dressing up and looking happy without them, when they were worried half to death and spending all their waking hours looking for her.

Once she was awake, he was going to have a serious talk with her, _after_ he had whipped her butt for running away like that. She deserved to have her butt whipped by all three of them, if he was honest about it.

But then, looking down at her in the bed, with the nasogastric tube snaking out of her nose, and the IV taped to her arm, and remembering the fear and sadness and relief on her face when she had first seen them, he knew he wouldn't be able to say one harsh word to her, much less do anything, until he had gotten the story of what had happened to her. From the looks of all the bruising that he had seen when they were in the basement room, they had mistreated her, and God knows what all they had done. She was going to be in no kind of condition for any kind of scolding or serious talking-to for a long time, probably.

Right now he would give anything to see her open her eyes and look up at him and say 'okay, Dean' with that little smile she would give him. He wanted to hear her voice again and feel her slide her arms around his middle like she always did. He wanted to know that his baby sister was safe and that he wasn't going to have to worry about her. He wanted to be able to his job right, the most important job that his dad had given him, which was 'watch over your sister and brother'. And Dean Winchester was never going to slack on that job again if he could help it.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

" 'I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone.'  
'I should think so — in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!'"

Sam stopped reading and stuck the bookmark into the book. He sat up, stretching his back and shoulders. He tried to read out loud to Aly every day, and talk to her some. He had read articles that suggested that people in comas were aware of what was going on around them, and that being talked to was helpful. Calvin had said that Aly was not in a coma, as such, more in a 'coma-like state'. Sometimes you could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids, so they figured she was dreaming. Which meant that there was brain activity, right?

The door hinges squeaked and Dean entered the room, carrying a tray.

"Dinner is served," he said, presenting the tray with a flourish.

Sam put the paperback on the edge of the bed and turned to take the tray.

"The Hobbit- again?" Dean asked.

"What do you mean, _again?_ It's been years since the last time we read it. I figured- I thought it might help her to hear something familiar, you know? Maybe help bring her back to us?" All of a sudden, Sam felt tears in his eyes.

"You're probably right, Sammy," Dean said. "Maybe I should get a stereo in here and crank up some tunes, that might get her out of bed."

"Uhh, she wasn't too fond of your music that much, any more," Sam said hesitantly.

"What do you mean, 'my music'?" Dean demanded. "Classic rock is _our_ music, it's Winchester music!"

"Speak for yourself," Sam said, shaking his head. "Maybe playing some Beatles for her would be helpful, she's always loved them. What _is_ this?" He looked at the plate and pushed what was on it around with the fork, trying to see if he recognized any of the food that was on there.

"It's something Dad came up with, some military thing where you throw a bunch of stuff in a pan and hope for the best. It tastes better than it looks- got ground beef, potatoes, onions, and black beans, and peppers in it." Dean told him.

"I understand everything except the beans- why the addition of beans?" Sam asked. "He always comes up with something that has potential, and then makes it weird by adding something off the wall." Sam ate a forkful of the dish. "Mm, not bad."

"You know that's the way Dad always cooks, they had to use whatever they had when they were in country, and he forgets that it doesn't have to be like that any more. Aly certainly didn't get her cooking talent from him! Man, I can't wait for her to start cooking-" Dean stopped abruptly. He looked at Sam and they both had the same thought, at the exact same time- what if she never wakes up? What if she never cooks another meal? What if she ends up in that bed for the rest of her life?

Dean swallowed uneasily. Sam put the tray on the end of the bed and pushed it away.

"Lost my appetite," he muttered.

"Sorry-" Dean said hesitantly.

Sam cleared his throat. "Has Bobby gotten any further in researching angel lore?"

Dean sighed. "No, not really. Well, I mean, there's a ton of stuff out there...but nothing really on how their powers work and all. Unless you want to learn ancient Hebrew and start studying some magical texts."

"What about getting in touch with them?" Sam asked.

"Well, there is always, you know, prayer," Dean said.

"But is prayer appropriate for something like this? I mean, we're looking for a specific angel to ask him questions about a specific event that he was there for. Would praying be the thing to do?"

"I don't know, Sam."

"Maybe we should try it." Sam looked up at Dean, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Knock yourself out, Sammy. I'll leave the angel talking to you. Maybe you could try and reach out with your powers and get in touch?"

"I don't know if that would work. Maybe I should ask Missouri what she thinks."

"Missouri isn't the expert on everything, you know," Dean said sourly. He didn't understand why Sam had called her so much when they were hunting for Aly, but then he didn't understand Sam's powers either.

"It's worth a shot," Sam said. He decided he was hungry, and pulled the tray back over towards himself. He ate the meal quickly, barely tasting it.

"I'm gonna go rest, so I can take the night shift," Dean told him.

Sam handed Dean the tray, "Okay, see ya in a while." he said. Dean left, and he picked up the book and opened it again. The bookmark fell onto the bed and he picked it up and looked at it. After he had read The Hobbit to her the second time, when she had been about 6 or 7, she had made him this bookmark. She had found a piece of heavy paper and drawn on it, Bilbo standing on a pile of treasure, and a dragon's head at the top of the bookmark. She had loved it when he read the confrontation between Bilbo and Smaug. A couple of years later she had been embarrassed by the bookmark, saying it was poorly drawn, and had wanted him to throw it away, but he had refused. He had loved that she had made it for him, she had given it to him when he started to hunt with Dad on a regular basis, and he figured it was her way of feeling like she had a connection with him.

He rubbed his thumb over the bookmark and set it back in the book, then moved over to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her.

He smoothed her hair back and looked at her pale face. He reached up and traced his finger over her cheek, remembering how she had had plump little cheeks when she was a toddler. A lot of people had commented on how cute her "apple cheeks" were, and Sam hadn't understood what they meant at the time, but now he did. He wished suddenly that he could go back in time, to when she had been that apple-cheeked little girl, and treat her differently that he had. He wished he had insisted that they do things differently with her and that their Dad treat her differently too. Dad had done his 'military routine' with all three of them throughout the years, and it affected Aly in a different way than it had affected him and Dean. They were training to fight supernatural fuglies, so they understood their father's gruff demeanor and barking orders; Aly wasn't doing any of that, so she saw it as him coming down hard on her. Maybe if Sam had tried to talk to their Dad more about Aly, and explain more about how she wasn't like him and Dean, things would have changed.

Maybe then things wouldn't have ended up the way they did.

"Come back to us, Alybug," he murmured. "Come on, wake up."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"Ya want me to take this shift?" Bobby asked John, as John settled into the chair with a large mug of coffee and his laptop.

"No, I'll stay," John replied. "You should make the dinner tonight, I think the boys are getting sick of my 'one pan specials'."

Bobby grinned, but didn't say anything. John Winchester was an excellent hunter and a meticulous researcher, but a good cook, he was not.

Bobby looked down at Aly, laying in the bed. "No change at all, huh?"

John sighed. "No. Calvin said she's still doing well physically...she's just out."

"Well, I'm gonna keep lookin' on-line to see if I can find anything similar to what happened with Aly. I've reached out to a couple hunters, and they've never heard of anyone doing what she did, outta no-where. I should maybe go back to my house for a few days and search through my books." Bobby took his cap off and then resettled it on his head. "I'll wait a few more days, see if she comes around." He cleared his throat, not wanting to admit that he was just as worried as the Winchester men, and he didn't want to leave Aly just now.

"I'm gonna start a fresh pot when I start preppin' for dinner, I'll bring ya a refill," Bobby said, walking to the door.

"All right, thanks," John said.

He looked over at Aly and thought about the last time he had seen her. They had been at Calvin's, and she had been chafing under all the restrictions, not liking being watched all the time, not liking the fact that she couldn't be on the computer, not liking that Sam was hovering over her with her schoolwork. He had been angry at her for running away before and her seemingly cavalier attitude about everything. But then he hadn't ever told her that much about demons, or what to expect, so how could she know how dangerous they really were?

When he and Bobby had left, he had seen tears in Aly's eyes as she hugged him, but he had been too distracted at the time to offer her comfort. And then the chain of command had broken down. Somehow the boys had screwed up and Aly had walked out from right under their noses. He had been so angry at them at the time, but now, looking back, it was his fault. He had once again put too much responsibility on their shoulders and left them to take care of their sister, like he always did.

John opened up his laptop and waited while it turned on and started to hum. The browser windows that he had opened before popped up on screen- "Angel lore", "Angels and witches", and "Power spells". In all his time dealing with the supernatural, John had never felt the immense power that he had felt coming off of Aly when she rose up off of the altar. He had been present at seances and exorcisms, hell, he had exorcised a few demons himself. He and Jim Murphy had emptied a house that had been full of angry, vengeful spirits, and all of those experiences hadn't even come close to the energy that had been in that room when they rescued Aly. He wanted to find out the why and how of it, he wanted to find out the why and the how of the fact that they apparently had an angel watching over their family.

He glanced up at Aly and saw that her eyes appeared to be moving behind her eyelids.

He set the laptop on the end of the bed and stood up, walking over to her and looking down into her face. He watched the movement of her eyes, and held his breath, listening, in case she made any sort of noise in her throat. He watched her eyes and face intently, hoping to see some more movement, some sort of expression cross her face, but there was nothing. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hands in his, still watching her face.

"Come on, Alyson," he said quietly. "Wake up, sweetheart, wake up. I know you're in there...just open your eyes for me."

He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. No response. As he watched, her rapid eye movement slowed down.

"Alyson," he said. "Please-" He sighed, and then all of a sudden tears were in his eyes, because this was his fault, he had screwed everything up with her, he had let his obsession with finding what killed Mary rule his life. He had dragged the boys into it, but not her, she had been on the outside of their little hunter's circle looking in, and if she never woke up again, it would be his own damn fault. He had heard of other hunters using their kids as bait during hunts, other hunters going off the rails and becoming alcoholics or druggies and abusing their kids, and he had always judged them harshly in his mind. But really, if he wanted to judge anyone harshly, it should be himself. What he had done with Aly, how he had raised her, was just as bad in a way as what those other hunters had done, because he had abandoned her, and now look where they were.

If she never woke up, it would be his fault. If she never woke up, he wouldn't be able to live with that. If she never woke up, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

" _ **Aly..."** I felt/heard a familiar sensation...my brother...Sam...Sammy...was it really him?_

" _ **Alyson, are you there?"** he asked quietly. I felt pressure in my mind. **"Can you tell me if you're okay? Please?"**_

 _Sam sounded so sad. I wanted to respond, but I was still so tired. And I wasn't sure...was it really him? **"We're here, waiting for you...you're safe now...please, Aly..."** Sam sounded like he was crying. I hadn't heard him sound like that in years._

 _I tried to move in my mind, to reach out to him, to let him know I was okay, but I couldn't. Everything was so heavy, and I was still so, so exhausted...I closed my eyes, closed my mind, and drifted back into myself._

Sam sat with his head bowed. He realized that he was holding her hands too tightly, and released them. He reached up and wiped the tears off of his face. He hadn't been able to feel her at all, not a bit. It was like reaching out and expecting to grab something, only to find that there was only air. He had hoped that whatever was happening inside of her, that they still had some kind of connection. He had tried to reach into her mind already, but nothing had happened. And he didn't want to push it, in case he ended up damaging something. He sighed and sat up straight. Missouri couldn't call back soon enough.

He leaned forward and kissed Aly's cheek, and then stood up. "I'm right here, Alybug," he whispered.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

 _...I was strapped to the altar... there was shooting, and yelling, and loud noises, and my family came into the room, fighting tooth and nail... I called to them and struggled against my bonds, crying... Sam saw me and came over to me..._

" _ **Oh, Alyson,"** he said, but his voice sounded different. **"I'm so happy to see you,"** he leaned down, and blinked, and then his eyes were black. He smiled maliciously, and I screamed..._

 _...He picked up one of the knives, and then his face changed into one of the demons..._

" _No, Sam!" I screamed, and screamed as the knife came down, and the screams echoed off of the walls of the room until they ran together and my head was pounding..._

 _~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~_

 _..."Dad!" I called out. Zeke and Dad both turned, and said, **"Yes?"** at the same time. They walked over to me, and stood on either side of the altar, where I was strapped down. _

" _Dad, I'm so glad you're here," I said with relief. "I've been waiting for you to come rescue me!"_

 _Dad looked at me, a smile playing on his lips._

" _ **We've got some unfinished business,"** he said. _

_He looked across the altar, and I turned my head. It wasn't Zeke standing there, it was Azazel. He smiled back at Dad._

" _ **I'll let you do the honors,"** he said._

 _I turned my head back to Dad, feeling a desperate panic rising in me._

" _What are you-"_

 _Dad lifted a huge knife up. **"It's time,"** he said, " **To complete the ritual.** "_

" _What?"I exclaimed. "No! I thought-"_

 _Dad blinked, and his eyes were yellow too. **"You don't think I'd want you back, did you? You're just as much a monster as the other creatures I hunt. I can't have that in my family. You've belonged with him since the moment his blood touched your lips."**_

" _But Dad-" I began to struggle against the straps that bound me to the altar._

 _Azazel leaned down. **"Just let it happen, my child. This is what you've wanted, to be part of a family, yes?"**_

 _I kept struggling, looking back and forth between them. "No! I want to be with_ my _family!"_

 _Dad laughed. **"You have no family.**_ **You** _ **ran away from**_ **us** _ **, remember? You gave us up!"** _

_The knife flashed as it came down, and I screamed..._

 _~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~_

 _... **"Aly, I'm coming!"** Dean yelled. **"I'm gonna get you outta there!"** he turned, shooting and shooting, and he caught my eye and gave me a half-grin. **"I've missed you, kiddo,"** he said._

" _Dean!" I screamed. "Watch out!" I watched in horror as he was lifted and thrown by an unseen force, landing so hard on his back that blood came out of his mouth. Dozens of demons converged on him, dragging him to the floor, and I watched in horror as they literally tore his limbs off, blood dripping, and I screamed until my throat felt like it was on fire..._

 _~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~_

 _I felt the presence before I heard her voice...I knew that presence..._

" _ **Child,"** she said gently, " **You're in your mind, and it's safe now. You can come out at any time."**_

" _Missouri," I breathed, "but the memories—the altar—Dad with the knife—his eyes-"_

" _ **Honey, those aren't memories, those things are your mind tryin' to make sense of all that's happened...you can control them, don't you remember that? You've got that power within you..."**_

" _I do? ...I do..." I did remember, having those lucid dreams before, when I was at Zeke's house..._

" _ **Come on back to us, baby,"** Missouri told me. **"We're all waitin' on you."**_

" _I want to, I'm so tired..." I murmured. "I feel like I'll never stop being tired..."_

" _ **You take your time then..."** she said. " **But remember to control those dreams, if something starts that you aren't happy with, you change it...fightin' those dreams is only gonna keep you tired out..."**_

" _All right, I'll try..." I said. "I need to rest..." I told her. As I felt her presence drift away, I realized that I had forgotten to ask about my family- were they all right? Had they come through the battle intact? But then she was gone..._

 _~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~_

"Hey Missouri, you're on speaker," Sam said into the phone. The five men were gathered around the kitchen table, focused on Sam's cellphone in the middle of them.

"She's fine." Missouri told them, and John let out an audible breath as all of them relaxed.

"The poor child is just plumb wore out. She was such a brave little thing, summoning her powers like that, and not knowing what was gonna happen- but that's that strong Winchester spirit, isn't it?" Her voice was warm, and they could all imagine Missouri smiling.

"When is she gonna come out of it?" Dean asked.

"Well, honey, I don't know. She's in there fighting with her dreams, and I reminded her that she's got the ability to control them. She _needs_ to control them so she's not trying to deal with the unhappiness and having that sap her energy as well."

"Unhappiness? Is she having bad dreams?" Sam asked.

"She's tryin' to work through what happened, so what she's dreamin' ain't always happy, no. Once she's able to deal with things it'll go better."

"Can you get in there, and, I don't know, give her some good dreams or something?" Dean asked.

"It's got to be her, unfortunately. And I can't push her to heal any faster than I could put energy into a rechargeable battery, understand? You've got to be patient, child. I know you're anxious to talk to her again, and to work things out, you all are, but you still gotta give her time. And, I think y'all got some talkin' to do with each other, don't you? Y'all might want to get _your_ stuff settled before she wakes, because all 'a you are gonna need to sit down and talk with her as well."

Missouri paused. "John Winchester, don't you _tell_ me that you were thinkin' of keeping all that's happened from her!"

John blushed slightly and shifted in his chair, looking down at his cup. "Well, I-"

"That child needs to know everything! _Everything,_ John! You got to be honest with all 'a your children from now on, 'member we talked about this? That demon, he filled her head with all kindsa lies, but he also told her some truths, and you're gonna have to help her separate them, and it ain't always gonna be pretty. Calvin, you best stock up on some boxes of tissues, honey, 'cause they're gonna need them!"

Calvin chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

"Y'all are gonna need to be gentle with Alyson, and with each other. And patient too. She's been through an awful lot, and it's gonna take time for her to heal."

"That's what the angel said." Sam told her.

"Time, time, everyone is saying she needs time!" Dean burst out in frustration.

"Well, Dean, things don't always go according to what you want, now do they? And I _better_ not hear from anyone that you tried to push things with that child, just because you got your own agenda with your guilt and all, or you will answer to _me_ , y'hear?" Her voice became stern.

Dean hunched his shoulders and ducked his head, and automatically said, "Yes ma'am."

Bobby and Calvin grinned at each other across the table. Missouri Mosely was the only person in the world who could make the Winchester men act like chastened little boys, and it was always amusing to see.

"Missouri...did you see... could you tell anything that happened to her?" Sam asked.

"Not full memories, Sam. I know that those demons posed as a father and daughter to lure her in, and she was livin' the high life for a while. They played some tricks on her, I know they had a passel of witches workin' a spell, but I don't know what all it was for. Like I said, y'all best be real gentle with her at first, because she's got a mountain of guilt inside about leavin' you all, and about everythin' that happened."

"She _should_ feel guilty," Dean grumbled.

"Dean Winchester!" Missouri admonished. "How can you say such a thing!"

Dean bristled at her tone of voice. "You're not the one who's had to deal with not one, but two of their siblings running away on them!" he said sharply. "Yeah, Aly's been through hell, but she put us through hell also! You have no idea what it's like to have all that worry-" Dean's voice broke, and he stood up so quickly that his chair slid back several inches from the table. He stormed out of the room, leaving the remaining men staring at each other with surprised looks on their faces.

"Aly ain't the only one who's got a whole lotta guilt to deal with," Missouri remarked. "That boy's always felt like it was his job to watch over his brother and sister, and whenever things go south, he blames every bit of it on himself. _You_ put that on him, John, so _you're_ the one who needs to go find him and help him work through that. He needs to not be so hard on hisself. And you need to take some of that responsibility back, John, and be their father, and let Dean just be their brother."

"Yes ma'am, I hear you," John said seriously.

"Well, Mr. Singer, is there anything I need to scold you for?" Missouri teased, after a moment's pause.

"No, ma'am, I've just been tryin' to keep these idjits alive and outta trouble." Bobby told her.

"And you've done a good job with that. I've got to go. Y'all stay strong, and you let me know when she wakes up, and then we'll see about working on teaching her how to control things. All righty?"

"Yes ma'am," Sam said. "Thank you, Missouri," he said. The other men all thanked her as well, and then Sam disconnected the call.

John looked around the table. "I guess I've got to go find Dean and talk to him, make my apologies." he said with a sigh.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

John went to find Dean, who was standing on the front porch of Calvin's house, gripping the railing in tight hands. He stepped out onto the porch, closing the door quietly behind him. Dean glanced over his shoulder briefly as John came to stand beside him.

"What was that about, Dean?" John asked in a quiet voice.

Dean stood there a moment. Then he turned to John.

"That was my job, Dad!" he burst out. "The most important thing, you told me! 'Watch out for the baby and Sammy'! And I couldn't even fucking do that right!" Dean raked both his hands across his hair; his face was distressed.

"You had nothing to do with them running away." John said, continuing to talk in a quiet, calm voice.

"Oh yeah?" Dean said in a voice filled with self-loathing. "Know what the last thing Aly said to me was? She told me she hated me. Because I had just whipped her ass for getting drunk in the car and making us have to stay in a hotel that night."

"What?" John was stunned at this revelation. "You never told me-"

"Well I didn't want you to ream me about that too." Dean said bitterly. "You'd already told me if anything happened to her it'd be my fault."

John winced at the memory of their conversation, and then he remembered that although Dean had had a happy-go-lucky demeanor, he had been a sensitive kid and he took things that people said to heart...he just didn't show it. Sam was the one who wore his heart on his sleeve and gave you puppy-dog eyes when his feelings got hurt; Dean tucked his hurt away and squared his shoulders and moved on. And that was still the way he dealt with it, even as an adult.

"Dean, I'm sorry," John said sincerely. "Emotions were running high, and I said some things I probably shouldn't have said."

" _Probably?"_ Dean asked sarcastically

"Okay, yeah, I was an asshole, okay?" John said.

Dean looked at his father and burst out laughing. He never thought he would hear his father call himself an asshole or admit to being one.

John caught Dean in a hug and they held each other for a moment.

"Listen, even if she said she hated you, and all that happened...it was her choice to run away, just like it was Sam's choice to run away to Flagstaff. And it wasn't something you could control and it didn't mean that you were a shitty brother or a failure or anything. Okay?" John looked into Dean's clear green eyes, that now had tears standing in them.

"Yes, I told you to watch over your brother and sister. And I meant it, but I didn't mean for you to make it your lifelong mission and for you to totally trash yourself if something went wrong or something bad happened. All right?"

"Yeah..." Dean tried to look away, and John took his son's face in his hands and made him look him in the eyes.

"I _mean it,_ Dean. It was _my_ responsibility first and foremost, to look after all three of you, and to not put that on you. I shouldn't have, but I did. I didn't mean to screw you up, or them, or any of this." John let go and turned to the railing. "God, this really is off the rails, isn't it?" He gripped the railing much like Dean had been doing when he came onto the porch.

"Yeah, but Dad, you did the best you could, when you were trying to figure out what happened to Mom..."

"Well, thanks for saying that, Dean, but I know I could have done a hell of a lot better than I did...I just had no idea that things were going to happen the way they did."

"None of us did, Dad." Dean said softly. "But they happened, and now we've got to pick up the pieces and move forward, right?"

John let go of the wooden railing and turned to Dean. "Right. We've got to move forward and try to patch things up and—and change the way we do things so that something like this never happens again."

"You really think you can change, old man?" Dean asked with a grin, and John slung his arm around Dean's shoulder.

"I'm going to try, so that things are better for Aly. I don't know if you'll be able to teach this old military dog new tricks, but I'm gonna try to learn. Let's go inside and get a beer." John said.

"Is it five o' clock yet?" Dean joked.

"It is somewhere," John replied, and they went inside.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

 _This time I knew I was dreaming. I was there on the altar, again, and everything was going down hill- demons were surrounding all the members of my family, and there were weapons flying and I could see blood being spattered and hear limbs breaking- just as I started to scream I realized, I can change this! I remembered the angel in the trench coat coming in, I remembered seeing him raise his hand and the dozens of demons falling down dead. And then my own powers too, it had been such an amazing feeling...would my family be able to accept who I was now? Or would I be just another case, or worse, another hunt?_

 _Before I could start thinking on that, I felt something moving within my mind...something that wasn't there before...something familiar...I turned and saw him but it was more like I felt his presence, his being, and I smiled, because we were connecting..._

" _Sam," I said, breathing a sigh of happy relief._

" _ **Alyson,"** he murmured, and it was like I was wrapped in his warm flannel embrace, but it wasn't just my body, it was my whole mind and spirit too._

" _ **Aly, are you okay?"** he asked, and I could feel his worry. **"It's been...a while..."**_

" _I'm tired, Sam, so tired," I told him. "I couldn't even move for the longest time."_

" _ **We'll help you."** he said. " **Please, just come back to us now. We're here for you, I promise..."**_

" _I'm trying, I'm trying, it's just everything is exhausting."_

" _ **All right, you rest for now. We'll be here waiting..."**_

Sam ran to the door of the kitchen, tears in his eyes.

John got up and ran over to him. "What's wrong, Sam, is Aly-" He moved to walk around Sam, to start hurrying to her room.

"No, she's okay, Dad." Sam said. "I mean, she's really okay, I- I got in touch with her!" He looked at John and his eyes filled with more tears as he smiled.

"You did?"

Dean rushed over to Sam. "Holy crap, Sammy, is she-"

"She's fine, Dean, just tired. Just like Missouri said. Just like the angel said. She- she's working on getting her strength back."

"Oh, my God." John said with relief, and he grabbed Sam and hugged him, and then reached out and pulled Dean into the embrace. The three men stood there hugging for a long time, trying not to cry, and not really succeeding.

Sam had felt Aly's exhaustion, but he had also been able to sense other things that were in there too, and there was a jumble of emotions: fear, pain, guilt, sadness, as well as relief and regret. He was worried about what kind of condition she was going to be in mentally when she woke up. He briefly considered saying something to his father and brother, and decided against it for the moment. They had enough to worry about, let them enjoy the good news he had just told them.

~ ~ ~ TO BE CONTINUED ~ ~ ~

EPILOGUE:

The alley was filthy- there was one dim street lamp at each end, and they cast an ugly yellow glow only partway up the walls.

The young woman walked slowly up the center of the alley, staying away from the walls where there were piles of garbage and dumpsters- that's where the vermin and rodents were.

"Thank you for coming," she said in a low voice, to the man who stood before her suddenly. The light was behind him, so he was mostly in shadow, and she could only see his silhouette. She cast her eyes down to the dirty street before her.

"I want to avenge...my father." she said in a shaking voice. "I... _need_ to avenge him." She glanced up at the man, who had tilted his head, watching her.

"The Winchesters," her voice was bitter and dripping with venom, "They need to die. For what they did. Please...help me..." she began to cry, overcome with emotion. "And I want to bring John Winchester to Our Lord and Master for judgement."

The short man in the black suit stepped toward her, his face finally coming into the light. The streetlamps flickered briefly as he considered her.

"There, there, sweetheart," he said in a mellifluous British accent, "Let me help you, my love."

~ ~ ~ END ~ ~ ~

 **The sequel, "Winchester, Interrupted: The Further Adventures of Alyson Winchester" will be published soon, so keep an eye out for it!**


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